Friends (Or More)
by sweetprincipale
Summary: A sequel to Warming Up to New Things, please read that first. Buffy and Spike embark on their odd experiment of being less than enemies, and possibly even friends. Tired of hurting each other, tired of being hurt by others, they decide to see if a simple friendship would work out. It goes surprisingly well, leaving them to wonder just how far beyond friends they might go.
1. Chapter 1

Friends (Or More)

By Sweetprincipale

A sequel to _Warming Up to New Things,_ please read that first. Buffy and Spike embark on their odd experiment of being less than enemies, and possibly even friends. Tired of hurting each other, tired of being hurt by others, they decide to see if a simple friendship would work out. It goes surprisingly well, leaving them to wonder just how far beyond friends they might go.

All due credit to The Greg Kihn Band for use of their song "The Break Up Song." I highly recommend listening to it at the pertinent

section.

Part I

"You don't look great."

"Neither do you," Spike returned, arms crossing defensively.

"I have thirteen hours of homework to do in 48 hours," Buffy rubbed the dark circles under her eyes. "Procrastination is _so_ not a virtue. Plus slaying. What's your excuse?"

"Not eatin' like normal. Do I look peaky? Can't see myself, so it's hard to tell,"

"You look paler than normal. Your eyes look sunken. Cheeks, too. I'm sorry. Is this-"

"Your fault?"

"Yeah."

"No," he shook his head. "I wasn't killin' last week."

"That's good. I mean, not good for your health, but- good for the people," Buffy felt a confusing sensation nudging her brain. She was delighted that Spike wasn't killing. That would have been the end of the "friendship" attempt. She was also worried. Her friend wasn't eating enough, and looked sick. "What can we do?"

Spike hesitated. He hadn't thought of asking her for help. He hadn't thought of even discussing this issue with her in any capacity. "I'll figure it out."

"I'll help you," she said quickly. "Giles said demon activity is down around campus. Heading to the outskirts," Buffy counted three stakes in each jacket pocket and her wallet in a zippered interior pocket. She made sure she had at least a twenty in there. Last time Spike picked up her drink tab and she paid for cocoa. But if they were friends and this was semi- dating she had no idea who was going to offer to pay for what and she wanted to be prepared.

"I haven't seen some of my old pals about town, either. That could be 'cause everyone I knew realized what we did last year."

"Year and a half almost," Buffy mused as they began to walk. They'd made a truce. He helped her with the Angelus situation. He wanted Dru back. Wanted Dru back after everything, and now…

Spike must have been having the same thoughts, "No word from him?"

"None. Her?"

"No. She uh- she said I taste like ashes."

"Quitting smoking helps that."

"It's a metaphor, you twit," Spike snapped and lit one up anyway, companion with working lungs or not. He was hungry and edgy, and suddenly heading toward depressed. "When I did the deal with you and she woke up after I got her away from Acathla, she said I was tainted by you. I helped you and turned on her and Angelus, my 'true' family."

"Not much 'true' in those two, sadly," Buffy muttered, also falling into the same dark state as the man beside her.

"Had another chance, that little reunion of ours, for a few days. You know how that went. Worked with you again, letting you go," Spike coughed awkwardly and looked at the dark blue sky, "She said she couldn't find me anymore. Just the ashes of who I used to be to her, what we used to be together. Then torching the place. Ashes and ashes, you see. I didn't have much appetite after that."

"Even when you want to move on to something better, it still hurts," Buffy lightly touched his arm.

_Better? Is this better? Bein' with this girl, this annoyin' human girl who wants me to play nice, who isn't givin' me much in the way of return- except her friendship. Loyalty. Time. Chances. _

"Do you think this is better, Slayer?" he asked, stopping on the corner of a poorly lit sidewalk.

_Being with Spike on patrol. Annoying, loud, soulless, "evil and proud of it" Spike. Spike, who wouldn't leave if things got tough. Spike who is who he is, and doesn't shut you out. Spike who keeps coming back, willing to be friends, to try again, even if we have the longest odds in the world- while Angel just leaves to "protect us" from himself, his curse, who just leaves and doesn't care if I ask him to stay… Spike who listens. _

_Spike who makes me laugh, even when I don't want to. _

"I think it's actually- in a very weird way- healthier. I don't know about better," she finally conceded.

"I was thinkin' that, too. Probably be less painful," he nodded thoughtfully.

"Sure, if we stop beating each other up," Buffy rationalized.

"I thought we said we might do a bit of friendly fightin'," Spike reminded her.

"To first blood only!"

Spike huffed. "Don't mention blood, I'm starvin'."

Whereas he'd stopped before, now she was the one suddenly frozen in place. "Starving?"

_Aww, look at her. Eyes wide and worried. Although if she was really concerned, she'd let me have a little nibble._ The taste of her lips against his suddenly forced images of other kinds of nibbling to the front of his mind. "Not starving, literally. Peckish. Keep walking or we'll never get to the cafe before they shut."

With a sudden extra hustle in her step, she caught up to him, then cleared him, doubled the length of space between them.

"Oi!"

"Come on! You can keep up!" Buffy thought this would challenge him, in a non-blood way. _But it also might make him more tired. He's weaker. You're not being thoughtful. I know it's a weird concept, but try it. _"Wait, that was dumb of me-" she turned to address him, only to be half-knocked over as a tornado in black leather brushed past her, laughing, smoke still streaming from his ivory lips as they smirked.

_Sexy vamp. _

_Oh, stop. _"Hey!"

"Catch up to me," he mimicked her voice, up an octave from his own as he continued to outdistance her.

"First one to the cemetery gates buys?" she asked, mentally planning not to use all of her speed, just to keep things balanced, considering his condition.

"Buys the first round, anyway," he called back, surprised to see her already within arm's reach. _We're well matched, her and I. Physically. _

He watched her bounding, bust bouncing, blonde hair flowing and rippling back in the breeze she made with her own speed. _Physically indeed._

_Oh, stop!_

For a few minutes, they passed the lead back and forth, laughing and taunting, and not caring. "I'm gonna get you, Blondie!" Spike suddenly switched to a more menacing tone of voice, a little growl, just out of adrenaline.

Something hit him hard, like a shit-ton of bricks, electrified bricks, and he went down with a painful gasp.

Buffy heard the thud and whirled in time to see three men, all in black approaching her "date." Fear, unfamiliar fear, fear for Spike, not fear _of _him or related to his threats, suddenly attacked her. "Hey! Back off! Leave him alone!" Buffy growled and turned with superhuman speed.

"Another HST, Finn!"

"Buffy, move!" Spike made a feeble attempt to sit up and managed to make it halfway.

"Hold! Hold your fire!" One of the men was suddenly waving his arms frantically and stepping between the woman and the other two men.

"Let him up! What'd you do my- friend?" Buffy pushed past the black-suited man.

"We thought you were being chased, ma'am, I mean, Miss," the leader spoke from under a black tactical mask and night vision goggles.

"So, there's a group of vigilantes roaming Sunnydale?" Buffy huffed and hauled SPike to his feet, letting him lean on her, rubbing his bruised ribs. "Also- Riley Finn? From Professor Walsh's class? Is that you under there?"

With a sudden move, one of the other men threw something at the ground. There was smoke and light, and Buffy felt her eyes stinging like angry wasps had attacked them. She found herself pulled under Spike's heavy coat, drawn to his chest and taken down to the ground, buried under him as he shielded her living lungs and eyes from the worst of it. When the smoke cleared in a few moments, the men were gone.

"You made him, Slayer. Blew his cover," Spike uncurled from around her. Both of them stared into the night, red eyed, coughing and panting. "That explains less demon activity. Vigilante boys are blasting them. Got me in the ribs good, some sort of suped up cattle prod." He rolled up his shirt, trying to see the bruises he could feel.

Buffy looked at the huge blue-black welts on his side, one of which was bleeding. "I'm so sorry. It was a dumb game to play," she paused, wanting to reach for him, but not sure if she should. Would it hurt? Would it make things more awkward?

"I bet they're still watching us," he moved closer, lips coming to her ear. "You think they knew what I was?"

"I don't know. But they know you're my friend. They shouldn't mess with you, or they'll have to mess with me, too!" Buffy cried, loudly, making sure any stragglers heard her.

"Let's go, Luv," Spike peered at her eyes, still streaming. "You okay?"

"Annoyed. And I have soooo many questions for Riley Finn on Monday afternoon."

* * *

Riley turned to Leland and Forrest. "Cover's blown. She knew me."

"She can't be positive."

"Trust me, that was Buffy Summers. She's in my class and I've uh- I talked to her a few times a couple weeks ago, and her roommate, too." Riley took off his mask as they left. "She's human." He held up a device. "All human, no HST readings. But she's protecting him, a vamp if I ever saw one."

"Hey, he protected her, too," Leland mentioned. "He pulled her under his coat, was a human shield. Vamp shield," he corrected, frowning.

"Only good vamp is a dead vamp," Forrest said harshly.

Riley wasn't so sure. From the look Leland gave him, he also had doubts. "You know, Walsh was just saying that she thought this place had way more demon activity. The numbers have been way lower than we thought. Even before we started patrols. It's like, there is _something_ here that knows about demons and is fighting them. Do you think…?"

"It could be those two?" Leland shook his head. "Although, they were pretty fast. They also recovered from the tear gas in three minutes flat. That's not typical."

"Walsh is putting it to the company at the Monday morning briefing. Cleveland or Sunnydale. I think it makes sense to leave town. For a couple of reasons," Finn shook his head. "This was a very strange patrol."

* * *

"That was a mega weird patrol," Buffy threw aside a splintered stake.

Spike flashed a handful of cash at her. "But lucrative."

"Where'd you get that?"

"The guy you dusted dropped it durin' the fight. Sorry I wasn't more help."

"I think the two you took out before I even got off my back was helpful enough," she stretched and arched her back until it cracked back into place. "Must've been a former wrestler."

"Is it cocoa time yet?" Spike felt irritated and sore. He also felt like a priss, asking for cocoa, which was what they'd agreed on and all, and he knew once they got there that it would be delicious and they'd have a good time, etc. etc. Just this night had gotten him in a different sort of mood. More like the whiskey and blood mood, not the cocoa and giggles mood.

_Don't eff this up. Relax. _

"This was a rotten 'date,'" Buffy looked at him regretfully. "My hair is a mess, my TA is shady, my eyes hurt, and you're hurt, and … yeah. I guess I'm seeing why some guys might choose the one date option around me."

"Tomorrow night? Same time, same station?" Spike asked with a crooked smile, blurting it out as naturally as releasing smoke after a long drag. He had to let her know, before the thoughts took root, that he wasn't the one date kind. Not the kind to be put off by one rough evening.

"I don't- I mean- really?" Buffy stumbled over her reply, but in a pleased way.

"Slayer, reflect a moment," Spike said posh words in his thickest East End snarl."Thick of all the utter _hell_ we've seen each other in. That we've caused each other. Sore ribs, mussed hair, and itchy eyes aren't much of an inconvenience. Are they?"

"Not in the big picture way. I guess the fact that we're trying to be friends in any capacity is a huge deal. Bigger than little problems."

"We're very buggered up people when we consider vigilantes with tear gas and tasers minor," Spike chuckled, and she joined in. They fell into step, and hesitantly, he opened his arm and she slid under it. "I like being with you, Slayer," he said softly. As soon as he'd said it, he really wanted to take it back. His chest felt tight and it throbbed. He wanted to be honest, yes. No more lies. But no more getting hurt. No more being stupid.

_This whole thing has risks, this whole thing is dumb. I wish I could-_

"I like being with you, too," Buffy whispered, feeling cold as the words left her. She meant them. And that scared her. It scared her that they might- do things. Say things that would make it impossible to safeguard her heart. "I don't think I want to stop at the coffee shop, though."

"Yeah, it's been a long shift," he tried to hide his disappointment.

"I think I might like something stronger. But not really strong."

"Daquiri?"

"Doesn't that have rum?"

"Virgin ones don't."

"I don't really drink," Buffy admitted.

"I thought not," he nodded. "But I do. I could murder a whiskey. You want a coke with a little splash of something?"

"Just the coke. And a place where I don't have to be quiet."

My new digs, Spike thought. _She could be loud as she wanted, I wouldn't complain. _He pictured several delightful ways of making her scream his name. "What's that club you like? The Bronze?"

"Let's go," Buffy laced her fingers through his. _People I know will see me there. With Spike. _

_I don't care right now._

* * *

The bar counter was full, so they took a seat at the high top table in the balcony. Buffy waved at a few casual acquaintances. But it really was a date, supposed to be for the two of them, not anyone else. She wasn't there to avoid talking to Spike. She just wanted to talk to him at a louder volume. "You don't dance, right?"

Images of his human life assailed him. He'd been a passable dancer back then, and after Drusilla, a magnificent one with her in his arms. But the dances of his day were the waltz, the minuette, several others that she would laugh herself sick over. "Not lately."

They sipped in silence. Then he drained the whole shot in one go and stood. "You could teach me the new moves, I s'pose."

"You're hurt. And we're tired. We don't need to, I just wondered." Buffy answered honestly, taking his hand to make him sit.

"You wonder if I can dance?" he arched one brow.

"Well, don't you ever wonder stuff about me?" Buffy demanded. They both blushed. "More whiskey? I'll get this round," she didn't wait for his answer before disappearing.

_I wonder if we could do this for more than a week. I wonder if this week I should go for it all, 'cause after that, it'll run its course, we'll be done. I wonder if I could just wait, and be patient, if this thing could go the distance. _"Yeah, I wonder things, Slayer."

Buffy returned and set his drink in front of him, as well as a basket of fries. "Hungry? Sorry, dumb question. Oh, I have an idea. The college lab? They have blood sometimes. We could get it from there."

"Break into your college lab an' get caught, get kicked out? I've got a bit of cash now. I'll call at the butcher's in the morning."

"Until then?"

"I'll be fine," he said firmly, but though he might sound harsh, wanting her to drop it, he was touched. "I'm not too tired to dance- up here. Down in that ocen of drunken college kids with no sense of balance- I'm not up for that," he snorted down at the sea of sweating, pulsing, gyrating figures, some of them clawing and pawing each other, a sea of blood and hormones in living packages. His demon needed a distraction, not further temptation. Of course, Buffy might fit into both categories.

Buffy looked around. There were two other groups up in the second floor area, a spooning, cooing couple who were kissing and hand-holding, and a group of guys with cards and shots. Neither group seemed remotely interested in them. "I never pictured us dancing together," Buffy admitted. "Just wondered if you did. Angel and I- always the slow dances. Never exactly fun. Always some pain under it."

Spike put out a hand and stood. "Dru and I- always dancing. All the dances, slow, fast… but she wasn't picky about who she danced with next. Hard to watch the love of you existence twirl off with her "Dear Daddy", all smiled and then find them in the corner and-" his hand closed into a fist before she took it. "No, Slayer," he growled, "never pictured us dancin' together, but wouldn't mind if we tried. Promise not to make you sad during, or after."

"Deal," Buffy was sickened by the thoughts of what he'd just said. Dru and Angel. Angelus. It was starting to lose meaning, the differentiation between their names. Both of them hurt.

"This song's a bit slow," Spike hesitated as the speakers pumped out something smooth and sexy.

"It's ending," Buffy couldn't get her eyes to line up with his. They would find his and they'd skitter away, both of them trying to find a position that they could tolerate. He took her hand, and put the other on her waist, and she tried to put both of hers on the lapels of his leather jacket. They laughed at their awkwardness and exchanged a smile as a pounding guitar riff started.

"This sounds like our kind of song," Buffy's head started bobbing before she could stop it.

"Fast, not too fast. Hard, just hard enough," he agreed, and his shoulders were swaying with her beat.

_We had broken up for good just an hour before_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

"Really is," Buffy raised her eyebrows.

_And now I'm staring at the bodies as they're dancing 'cross the floor_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

_And then the band slowed the tempo and the music took me down_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

_It was the same old song, with a melancholy sound_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

They shared a smile. "A song for the broken up, the broken hearted- who still keep fightin'."

_They don't write 'em like that anymore_

_They just don't write 'em like that anymore_

This was easy. This was better than fighting, in a way. She slid her hands up his arms, and to her surprise, up to his neck, pulling them close. A flicker of something in his eyes, met in hers, before the fire faded to a steady heat.

_We'd been living together for a million years_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

He shuddered pleasurably as they worked together, her hands taking him out of his duster, strong, soft hands that seemed to have no trouble hitting every nerve ending of his neck and shoulder as his arms rolled back under her touch, jacket sliding down. He let the coat slide off, catching it one handed and put right back on the chair without turning around. "Vampire reflexes," he winked.

_But now it feels so strange out in the atmospheres_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

_And then the jukebox plays a song I used to know_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

_And now I'm staring at the bodies as they're dancing so slow_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

One minute she was facing him, the next minute she was against him, back to chest, hands mingling and tangling together at her waist as she looked back at him saucily, flirting but not seducing. "Slayer reflexes." They laughed together, dancing to an upbeat song about the worst pains they'd ever experienced, getting over them with an old enemy and a new friend.

_They don't write 'em like that anymore_

_They don't write 'em like that anymore_

_Oh_

"They don't make 'em like you," Spike whispered in her ear, his head dropping down low to hers. "Been around a century, pushing two. They never…" Words stopped.

She turned, arms now winding around his neck. The dance wasn't slow, but bodies slowed down. His hand came to rest on her hips.

_Hey_

_Now I wind up staring at an empty glass_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

_'Cause it's so easy to say that you'll forget your past_

_Ah ah ah, ah ah ah ah ah_

It would be easy to forget everything in the past- for a minute. Buffy began to raise to her tiptoes, and he bent lower still, lips coming too close, and eyes meeting. _We could kiss. But we won't. It's too easy to forget and then…it'll hurt again._

Spike pressed his forehead to hers, eyes closing. He wasn't good at patience. Well, he had been patient with Dru, for so long. He had little patience for everything else. "Hard to wait to see what happens next, init?" he whispered, head twisting slightly, putting his lips away from hers.

But that only served to highlight the musculature of his neck, those cheekbones that she now found herself brushing against, her warm, golden skin to his colder white. "It'd be easy to- to forget going slow."

_We're still dancing like this, and the music stopped_. New music started. She winced at the blaring sugar pop. They bother jerked apart.

"Want to call it a night?" he offered.

"If you do," she replied, but her head gave a reflexive shake, no.

"Wanna ditch this place in favor of a walk?"

"Yeah. Walk me… home?" Everything sounded uncertain.

"Home? Dorms? But you didn't want to be done." Hurt and confusion and relief were bubbling over in his head, but mainly the confusion.

"No, I don't want to be done. We could take the long way home and then, um." Words died off.

"If you invite me in, you worried I'll abuse the privilege?" he asked gently.

"Not really," she answered truthfully. That wasn't her concern.

"Are you jus' worried, full stop?"

They began to walk down the iron stairs and out the back, him slinging his duster on over his shoulders as they moved. "Sometimes guys think if you let them into your room that you-"

"That you want them in other places, too?" he raised one eyebrow, watching her blush. "I'm not exactly a perfect gentleman, but I wouldn't ask you. Know we can't." he sighed.

That surprised her. "We can't?"

"I don't think friends ought to. Yet." Now _he_ felt uncomfortable. "You hafta talk a thing to death, don't you?"

She gave him a hurt look. "That's what I like about you. You talk and I talk and we listen to each other. Friends do that."

_I'm not s'posed to feel lustful urges toward friends. Am I? Never had proper friends before, of the fairer sex, so I don't know. _"I didn't think I ought to include the word _yet_, unless it made you feel like I was bidin' my time. I know it might not go that direction."

"I think the same things. But not about biding time. Just taking time." _The more I'm around him, the more I think we'll get to that point. I also think I'm okay if it doesn't, as long as it's mutual._ "I'm confused." Buffy finally muttered, kicking a crumpled beer can.

"Oh good, so 'm I!" Spike sagged in relief, leaning on her. She leaned back on him.

"I haven't actually 'dated' since I was fifteen. I'm a different person now," Buffy explained. "I don't even like the same things, definitely not the same kind of guys."

Spike hesitated. He hadn't dated. Men didn't, not in his human past. They _courted_ back in his day. His courting attempts had been disastrous and had ultimately led to his turning. "I didn't have much in the way of relationships before Dru. So, we're in the same boat, in a way. This shouldn't be new to us. But it is. We're screwed, Slayer, if we try to play by rules that others have set. We could set some rules of our own."

"We're not entirely rule-following. Especially you," Buffy leaned her head against his chest as they walked. This was nice. This was what she wanted. Someone to talk to, and lean on. Someone to help up and let do some leaning of their own, if needed.

Hot, good kisser, funny, and totally able to keep up with her physically would also be desirable characteristics. Spike ticked all the boxes. Oh no.

Soul. Has to have a soul.

_Why? Souls aren't helping guys be good boyfriends, did you notice that? But Spike, for Drusilla… I wish I had someone like that._

_I wish I had someone like him._

_I could. I think I could be happy with someone _just _like him. _

Buffy changed her meandering pace and circuitous route to something brisker and more direct. Spike flagged for a moment, and she looked at him. His eyes seemed darker underneath, and his normal white-toned skin seemed more bone-like, unhealthy as opposed to merely vampiric. "Want to come in?" she asked.

Spike blinked. "Yeah. I'd love to," he answered unguardedly. "What about the roommate situation?"

"She's out tonight for sure. Oz and the Dingoes - that's his band, are playing in a club like four hours away tonight and Willow went with them. She and Oz have been having some weird issues lately, and they plan to do a little couples' therapy. In the form of Sunday alone in nature and away from her laptop and his chem books and guitar."

"What's your idea of a good time then, Luv?" Spike tried to ignore a sudden pain in his side that wouldn't fade.

She thought for a long minute. "I don't know anymore. Yours?"

He didn't answer. Buffy felt something cold and wet against her arm, which had wormed itself against Spike's injured side, as his arm had snugly fit across her shoulders. "You really need to eat."

"I know."

Silence. "Slayer…"

"I can take you to Willy's Place, that demon bar!" Buffy suddenly realized.

"Do you mind if you get it to go?" Spike detached from her and leaned against a phone pole, looking winded.

"Oh my God. You are not okay."

"Those idiots just kicked me when I was down," Spike hesitated and then rolled up his shirt. One of the blue-black welts was worse, not better, and bleeding a lot more. "I don't think I'm good date material."

"I think you're pretty terrific," Buffy was forced to admit. "You have a car. Where is it?"

"Other side of Restfield. I'm not givin' you my keys unless I see a valid license. That car's older than your Watcher and I'm fond of it."

"You drive, I'll run in for you."

"Okay. In a bit," Spike hated appearing weak. Slayer already had seen him weak before and he hated it then, hated it now, for different reasons.

Buffy licked her lips. She looked around. Alleyways. Perfect and seedy and made her skin crawl. She looked down at Spike, now sitting, panting unevenly and trying not to look like it hurt.

Your perceptions can change. "Let me help," Buffy's voice was soft, and her hands gripped his, steadily pulling him to his feet.

Spike groaned faintly on rising, and tottered for a brief moment before resuming his swagger. The swagger lost confidence when she didn't let go, but kept pulling, kept leading. Down between two buildings, a hall of dirty asphalt and crumbling brick, black outlines of rubbish and gray and red walls.

"Let me help," she repeated, voice smaller, softer.

"I can't do that," Spike felt his head floating, thoughts disconnecting, but not from injury. She was pressing him to the wall gently, embracing him. They swayed together, a dance with no music. He could feel every little lithe curve of her, and his hands trapped themselves in her golden waves. "You don't want this."

Buffy said nothing. _I don't want him to bite me. No. No, biting is bad and wrong and makes me feel sick, violated, stomach twists and knots, cold sweats. I can't do this. _

_He might not make it if I don't._

"I got light headed, Luv, I'm nowhere near starvin'," Spike tilted her chin up gently. "I can't believe you would even think of lettin' me."

Her voice disappeared, she nodded. It wasn't supposed to be scary with him. This was weirdly terrifying. _If I cross this line, I might not go back. _

_We might become all those bad, depraved things he mentioned, the people and vamps who use blood to live, exchange it for sex, for pleasure. All the bad things that I can't understand anyone wanting to do._

_I can't understand the feeling of wanting to give this to him. _

"You never wanted this," he repeated, head leaning back to find stars in the traveling smog that came over from the cities.

"You wanted a willing donor."

"You didn't want to be one," Spike's confusion turned to full on bewilderment. "Slayer. Buffy! Stop, you're startin' to shake. What's-"

"I don't know!" Buffy burst out.

_Too confusing. I don't want to be with a vampire. It's complicated, it's wrong._

_I want to be with Spike. It's surprisingly easy. Feels oddly comfortable these days, at least, most of the time. _

"If you're not sure, then it's not on," Spike held her closer, pressing her head into his chest suddenly, trying to get the almost imperceptible tremors to stop. "Calm down, all right? We're never gonna hurt each other. We don't need to do this. We don't need to do anything anymore, not unless both of us like the idea."

"Want to be close to someone," Buffy murmured into his shirt.

He fancied his heart pounded, but he knew it was a lie. "I do, too. Hey, let's get a few bags to go, I'll be good as new. Then- we'll be close as we like, in the ways we like."

"Can you walk that far?"

"Absolutely, of course."

They left the alley, sandwiched together. "If I thought you needed help, and I didn't help you," Buffy swallowed hard. "I wouldn't forgive me, now. It's weird, caring about someone so different, but um- caring so much."

"'Cause it just all fits? An' it's so fast?"

"Yeah, exactly."

"I don't think it's as sudden as it seems," Spike broached this subject carefully.

She denied it. "I wasn't attracted to you before."

"No, I didn't mean we had the hots for each other. I meant we'd known of one another for awhile, and we'd appreciated each other as adversaries. There's knowledge of each other stored, now we're just usin' it in a new light."

"Ah. That could be."

More walking, unsteadily. Spike pointed out that it might be quicker to walk directly to Willy's then Restfield, and campus would be a straight shot back if they stayed on Main Street.

"If you're sure it won't hurt more?" Buffy asked.

"When you worry about me, I can't feel any pain at all," Spike knew it was a sweet thing to say, too sweet, too lost and innocent for a man like him, a demon like him. But her smile reached her eyes and poured into his and he couldn't feel any regrets, either.

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Part II

They went in together. They didn't speak, but they stood side by side and it was obvious they were there together, though not obvious in what capacity. "Three bags," Spike put down a twenty.

"Plus this," Buffy put down ten.

Willy opened his mouth, shut it, and asked "Animal, human, or blend?"

"How'd you get it, the human?" Spike asked.

"Living donors, not to worry! Paid for." Willy didn't say they were paid in drugs and other contraband, but that was is supplier's concern, not his. "Animal is grade A, from the meatpacking plant."

"He wants human this time," Buffy said in a flat voice that indicated arguments would be unwise. Willy looked at Spike.

"Listen to the girl, Willy," Spike took one pint out of the brown paper shopping bag Willy prepared. "Toss that in the microwave for 20 seconds, there's a good boy."

"Serving is extra and I - it's on the house this time," Willy quailed under the combined onslaught of their stares.

* * *

The walk didn't take long, and Buffy noticed his step was quick again, not slightly out of time with her own. They were hurrying home. Home to her dorm, which was stupid and risky.

Not really.

"Come up," Buffy somehow started holding his hand as they crossed the campus line. Now they slowed in front of the walkway to Stevenson Hall.

"I won't stay too long."

"I'll be up for awhile," she looked at him from the corner of her eye. _This wasn't the date I wanted. I shouldn't try to recapture it in my bedroom. Not like bed part of bedroom, but still. I don't want him to leave yet. _

"I could be up all night. As a vampire, creature of the dark, all that," he hastily clarified. "I've been in the dorms before. Not in a room, though. The invite, y'see."

"I asked you in earlier. Does that count? We weren't physically present. Does that matter for vampire invitations?"

"We'll find out in a minute, won't we," Spike followed her up the stairs, hearing voices and laughter, radios and televisions murmuring or blaring from behind closed doors. Her room was on the second floor, 214, the corridor a mixture of noisy rooms and darkened ones. To her relief, no one was there when she opened the door, breathing a bit too hard to indicate a placid attitude. She stepped inside, still holding his hand, and he smoothly followed her, both of them smiling widely when he entered without being issued a reinvite.

"I guess that worked. Plus, me pulling you in might have told the Universe I wanted you. Inside. Inside this room. Man, I really should have had something to drink," Buffy put her hands to her flaming cheeks. Spike just chuckled.

"Freud would've had a field day with us, Luv. Speaking of drinks, mind if I have a few more?" he rustled the brown paper bag full of smaller pouches of blood.

"Microwave by the little sink," Buffy gestured.

"Ta. You eat dinner?"

"Yeah, I grabbed a burger before patrol. Plus the fries we got. Ooh, I have microwave popcorn. We could - watch a movie," her voice trailed off. "Is that lame?"

"Nope," he shrugged. He wouldn't be watching the movie, most likely. He'd be watching her. Watching her now, putter around the little room, taking off her jacket, fussing with her hair, hastily putting some clothes into a little pink hamper by the closet. She hadn't intended to invite him, or she'd have tidied up before, perhaps. All the more reason to be pleased he'd received the invite.

He perched by the microwave, sliding off his duster and draping it over the desk chair. Strangely intimate, being in this room, with this bed and her clothes, taking things off together, even if only coats. "Uh, mug?"

"Oh, duh, here." She handed him a pink mug that said "Goddess of Chocolate." Sorry."

"Suits you," he stored that away for later. Buy the girl chocolates sometime. _Friend or date, or more. Always give them something they like, to show you paid attention. _

He'd paid a lot of attention. Felt her trembles of fear and heard her steely soft voice in that alley. _Let me help you._

His own suggestion, softly spoken, unshakingly clear. _Then- we'll be close as we like, in the ways we like. _"Think we'd have another dance after the movie, Slayer?"

"In here?"

"Radio?"

Buffy nodded at once. She actually preferred that idea. "Let's do that first. I was really only after the movie for the sake of munching on popcorn."

Spike put the mug to his lips, now full. "You munch, I'll sip."

They ate together, eventually coming to the bed, the only place both could sit. "I guess I need a couch. There's a desk chair."

"My place only has the one chair, too. Must be a junk shop someplace. Or the dump. Vamps usually shop at the dump."

"Broke college kids might, too. I have to get a job. My dad's not paying for my college, slaying doesn't pay, my mom can't afford it."

_I could help her. I could keep her in the manner to which she's accustomed._

_But not unless I go back to hurting people. _"I'll keep an eye out," Spike promised.

"I really don't want to think about it for now. On Monday. I do a lot of things on Monday," Buffy laughed.

"Glad tomorrow's Sunday, Slayer," Spike raised his eyebrows at her self-confessed procrastination. He started his second bag and put the rest in the mini-fridge. "Remind me to grab that later, yeah?"

"Hey, where do you live?" Buffy suddenly got off the bed, both of them now standing. "Restfield, but where?"

"Alpert Mausoleum. Why?"

"Well... 'cause I thought- I mean, maybe if you ever forget something, I'd need to bring it over. Or need to find you. You don't have a phone, do you?"

"Nope."

"So, you know where I live, and now I know where you live."

"I'll give you the invite, too, Slayer. Come see me whenever you like," he winked. He downed his second mug in record speed and sighed contentedly. "On the mend, I can already feel it." Spike lifted up the edge of his shirt and Buffy and he both stared at his side. The welts had faded to a reddish bruise, no more blood.

"Oh, good," Buffy breathed thankfully, hand resting on it for a split second. They both jumped, her guiltily, him in surprise. It was then that he noticed the blood on her sleeve, and the side of her pretty white shirt.

"Bled a bit on you earlier. Sorry, Slayer."

" I have one of those pre-wash bleach sprays, it's fine," Buffy looked at her shirt in surprise and walked toward the closet. _Wait. What do I wear? I don't have to change on a date, usually. Something pretty, or sexy, or super casual? This is a friendly date._

_Screw that. _"Let me get a different shirt. Find a station and I'll- I'll be up for a dance in a minute. If you still-"

"I still want to be close as you want me to be," his arm brushed hers as they passed, her on the way to the tiny ensuite half-bath, and him on the way to the radio she pointed to.

Very, very close, Buffy thought as she put on a skinny black top with ruched sides and cowled neckline that hinted that cleavage was just under the little folds, easily accessible, without being visible. That wasn't too suggestive, right? Sexy without being trashy? _I hope. It's mean to lead people on. _

_I wouldn't lead him on. I'm not leading. I hope._

He liked it hard and fast, something to bounce with, destroy with, rock with. The punk scene had been one of his favorite eras in his homeland, British punk being by the far best.

_But that's not what we ought to do. That doesn't scream close. It screams destruction and noise. I want her to feel safe._ I _want to feel safe. Not soppy, not scandalized, not pushy. _Spike sighed_. _Being good was a pain in the ass. But it had its compensations. He left the dial alone when he heard some rock'n'roll that wasn't too loud. Clapton, he thought. He kept it low. He was there to talk to her, not simply to get physically close.

Like that kiss last night. Like that moment in the alley, holding onto each other for sustenance and support. _Ought to thank her. Realize what she offered you?_

"Thanks for tonight," Spike cleared his throat as she emerged. "For helping' me with those blokes with tasers and tear gas. An' thanks for the offer you made. I know that you aren't like that, and it means a lot to me. That'd you'd put yourself out of your comfort zone to help me. There. Honest and full disclosure," Spike licked his lips a couple of times to get the taste of so much "communication" out of his mouth.

_Out of my comfort zone? He let someone slice him up with sharp knives to let me escape. You think you can't let him have a sip? How much blood did he spill for you that night? Remember the scars that weren't gone? Are they now, in another day?_ Buffy nodded over the noise of the words in her room was dim, one small lamp on, over the desk. She approached and he thought it was the beginning of their dance. It worked out perfectly for them to get close, for her to be inches away, and to see the faintest lines still running across his arms and neck. "Thank you for helping me, too," she whispered.

He didn't understand why her whisper should earn one of his, but it did. "Welcome. Luv…" she pressed to close. Her fingers were lightly running over his neck, soft spots, spots vamps like to have stroked. "Buffy…" he didn't want to sound breathy and moaning. Couldn't help it.

"Hurts?" her hands slid back to his shoulders.

"No. Opposite. Your touch is golden," he took her hand and hesitated before kissing the fingertips.

She didn't hesitate at all, which was strange for her, to kiss the back of his hand, locked around hers, turned to her lips.

_What'll you do when you get lonely_

_And nobody's waiting by your side?_

_You've been running and hiding much too long._

_You know it's just your foolish pride._

_Layla, you've got me on my knees._

_Layla, I'm begging, darling please._

_Layla, darling won't you ease my worried mind._

"You're startin' to shake again," Spike slowly spun and swayed with her. "I've never seen you do that."

"I didn't used to around you."

"I hope it's not- worry?" _Worry I'll suddenly lunge at you? Hurt you? Kiss you and start pressing you to the wall, or the floor, or the bed, too far, too fast? _

_I'm a bit worried about the last bit._

"Worried," she admitted. He dropped his arms, and she pressed back into them tightly, instantly. "I worry about things I shouldn't think about."

"Thoughts have reasons, Buffy," he murmured on top of her head. "You must have reasons." A fraction of a second, searching for the right thing, and it hit him, so easy. "Tell a friend?"

"He might laugh."

"He won't if it's not s'posed to be funny."

"I've had sex two whole times."

He froze. "Well, that's not funny. Why'd you think I would laugh at that?"

"Seems, not funny but odd, to think about wanting someone, and then realizing you're scared that you're bad at it, or scared that they'll think you're bad at it. Scared to do things again, because maybe it will hurt, and not just body parts, but heart parts," she confided in a huge rush, feeling sick to her stomach.

"That's not funny, not odd." Bite the bullet. "I've had sex thousands of times- with jus' one woman. So, maybe I'm bad at it. Maybe I couldn't keep her satisfied. No, I know I could, I was good, but… she kept havin' other lovers off an' on. Damages your confidence. An' I'm not so much afraid of the physical pain, but I get heart pain, Slayer."

"Just one woman?" Buffy looked up at him wide eyed.

"Don't judge," he said harshly.

"Not judging! That's beautiful. I wish I- I wish the first person who loved me had been able to keep on doing it. I wish the second guy, that I thought I could care for, hadn't been using me."

They slipped together into a hug, not a dance, an embrace with music. _We can shield each other from the pain._ "Not that we're plannin' to do any such thing," Spike whispered in her ear, "but I promise never to use you, Luv. not like that, and not at all. I promise not to make anything hurt. I was-" he found his throat suddenly misbehaving, tightening and choking as memories of his broken black angel lying on their bed assailed him. "I was gentle as you could ask for, if that's what she needed. If that's what you-"

They locked eyes.

_We're talking about sex. Like, a lot of sexual stuff, in detail. And somehow it morphed into talking about sex between us, which wasn't supposed to happen. For a long, long time. _"I could be whatever my lover wanted. Or needed."

"I don't know what I am, or could do," Buffy admitted.

"You give until it hurts you. You need someone who won't go so far. Let's you give until the point of pleasing each other, pleasing you both. No one should hurt."

"Like she hurt you," Buffy's lips did the strangely unthinkable. They kissed the scars on his arms, and though he had no breath, his breathing went completely erratic, and he stumbled back a bit, into the wall.

He'd always been gentle with Dru. Had Dru ever been gentle with him when he needed it? No. When he was broken, she was with others. "Buffy, stop," he squeezed his fists into balls and his eyes hard shut.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"I'll want you too much. You really are-" he wiped at his stupid eyes suddenly, the blue betrayers. "Too good for me, y'know that."

"I made you sad," Buffy looked mortified. "Spike, I'm so sorry."

"It's not somethin' to apologize for. To make me feel- good like that." _To feel loved. Safe. I'm a big, evil vicious vampire! I don't want gentle! I don't want love, I don't do safe! _

She felt the edge under his tone, the hardening in the features, and she backed away, afraid of what unseen boundary she'd crossed.

Don't blow this, he eased her back into his arms as another song ended, commercials burbled in the background. "It's hard for someone like me to play nice. It's hard for someone like me to say they've not had a proper friend in decades, not been treated with the sweetness you show so naturally. Like you breathe in, you breathe out, you heal, you love. Not that you love me," he was quick to assure her he knew it. "But you show it to everyone. I wish that someone would show it to you. I wish it could be me. I wish I knew how."

"Like that," she looked up at him in awe. "Just like that," she whispered before he kissed her, and she let him.

_To be continued..._


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: All due credit to Bad Company and "Ready for Love." I highly recommend listening to it while reading._

_Author's Second Note:- If you are a fan of my story "A Model Romance" and subsequent parts of the trilogy, it is now a full-length novel on Amazon. I hope that any Spuffy lovers who like erotica, romance, and a bit of mystery will give it a try! Here is the link. CrossRealms: Shattered by S.C. Principale_

Friends (Or More)

Part III

By: Sweetprincipale

_I'm walkin' down this rocky road, wonderin' where my life is leading_

_Rollin' on to the bitter end_

_I'm finding out along the way what it takes to keep love living_

_You should know how it feels, my friend_

Unhurried kisses, soft, exploring ones. She shuddered against him when skin on his arms met the skin on hers, crushing her close, cradling her. "But we can't." She couldn't yet. It was too soon.

"We can dance. Like this," he whispered in her ear.

"It's not a tease?"

"Not unless you tell me yes, then tell me no."

"Are you going to be disappointed?"

"Why don't we worry about you, too? Are you gonna be sad?" _How odd to be with one of the good ones. See, they always care about the others, ask about them. I always cared if Dru was okay, never myself. Wait, does that mean I was good- in some way?_

Buffy watched his face go through a whirlwind of expressions, but she couldn't quite decipher the emotions behind them."No. I'll feel like I didn't rush. I'm afraid of rushing. I'm afraid of too many things," she confessed, telling her sworn enemy her darkest secret.

He shared it, "Me, too. I'm mainly afraid right now, that you'll push me away. So I don't want to do anything wrong. I don't want that to happen. I want to dance all night with you- but in this position, not the other one," he winked. "Sound good?"

"Dance all night, if you want," she kissed him again.

_I want you to stay, I want you today_

_I'm ready for love, oh baby I'm ready for love_

_I'm ready for love, oh baby I'm ready for love_

Didn't mean that they wouldn't enjoy the dance. Or react to it. Hands on hips, and up in hair, accidentally brushing past her breast, and they both jumped before she made a soft, pleasurable sound, not meeting his eye.

He got hard instantly and knew she must feel it. Her nipple was tight under his hand, and he moved away. "You're beautiful." He had to tell her. Had to tell her right now for some reason, like he could feel the raw gorgeousness of her under his hand. He tried to step back a pace, only to find her body stayed plastered to his. Oh. _Close._

_I'm waiting for your call, oh there_

_Now I'm on my feet again better things are bound to happen_

_All my dues surely must be paid_

_Many miles and many tears, times were hard_

_But now they're changing, you should know that I'm not afraid_

_I want you to stay, I want you today_

"Again," she shouldn't want that kind of contact. Shouldn't ask him to. But he did, caressing her neck, and her shoulder, and over her right breast lightly, letting her gasp in pleasure, letting her arch her back against his supporting arm. His smothered grunt told her he was feeling the same arousal. Her hand trailed down the midline of his chest until it hit the brassy button of black jeans.

"Hell," he hissed through locked teeth.

"Sorry."

"Closer," he led her wrist back to his waist.

_I'm ready for love , oh baby I'm ready for love_

_I'm ready for love, oh baby I'm ready for love_

_I'm ready, so ready_

"Aren't you going to want to- take care of that?" _Or want me to?_

"Patience is a virtue," he leaned against her, tried something new, his blunt teeth on her ear, nibbling, down the nape of her neck.

_Vampire! Neck! Teeth! Danger, danger, ohhhhh damn. Why's this type of danger feel so good?_

"It's not dangerous anymore," he couldn't read minds, but he had been a vampire, and he'd known slayers for years. "Trust me. Friend to friend."

"Would you trust me if I was holding a stake to your heart?"

"You're holding it, anyway," he whispered before he thought better of it. _Shit. Oh well. _"You could crush it and hurt me with a look, a word, as much as with wood. Frankly, after everythin' I've had happen, I think I'd rather have the stake, the quick end, less cryin'."

"I don't want that. Either way," Buffy pulled back to look him in the eye. There was s sudden scuffle as two very tired, very lonely people who didn't know they'd been so hurt- until they found someone who wouldn't hurt them anymore, clung to each other. Not willing to let go, her arms around his neck, feet skimming the floor, his head buried just under sher shoulder as he held her up a bit, arms locked around her back.

_Oh dear, I want you to stay, I want you today_

_I'm ready for love, oh baby I'm ready for love_

_I'm ready for love, oh baby I'm ready for your love_

_I'm ready for love, oh baby I'm ready for your love_

_I'm ready for love ,baby I'm ready for your love_

"Shhh, shh."

They paused in mid-sway. Who'd comforted whom? It was both of them. He was always the reassuring one, talking Dru down. Buffy was always the reassuring one, getting her friends, getting Angel to the next step of whatever horrors there were, horrors she didn't want to face. They helped her, too, but she was used to being brave for them. She had a strange feeling she was falling apart now, and that maybe it was safe.

"I'm selfish, y'know," he put her down, but kept her close. "But I won't be selfish this time, 'bout takin' care of -whatever this turns out to be."

_I'm walkin' on down down down down down down this rocky road_

_Oh I'm worth dying, while my life is beating_

_But now that I've found you, baby_

_I can never let you go, I need your love so bad_

_I want to give you my heart and my soul_

"How can you tell me that? So fast?"

"It's a fact. That's not somethin' I have to wait to tell you. It's not…" he mulled for a moment, trying to figure out an explanation about how his heart, his loyalty, would be easy to give. "It's not a secret. Don't you think a person ought to be able to tell you the simple things straight off?" he brushed the hair from her face. "I won't hurt you. I won't be selfish. Few other things along the same lines. You told me the same things, Luv."

"But no one told me before- well, not before it was already painful. Angel waited, didn't talk, didn't want to tell me because he didn't want to- fall in love. And Parker told me anything he thought would work. I was just getting to the point where I decided not to talk much anymore, to any guy- and you picked up my bar tab that night. Now, I'm spilling my guts."

"Well, I'll pick 'em up for you."

"Taken literally- that's completely gross."

"I had the same thought. Bugger. I'm not very smooth-tongued sometimes."

"Your tongue is amazing," Buffy patted his back. "Oh man. That sounds way wrong, too. I meant you talk good. Which I don't. Do. The good talking. Can you kiss me so I stop?" she laughed helplessly, and he laughed too, pressing lips to hers in wonder, that in this girl, there was sadness and comfort and laughter and desire.

And it didn't seem to hurt.

I would take this. I would keep this, Spike marveled. _It's all too bloody quick and simple, so I can't yet, but if I could..._

_I need your love baby, I need your love so bad_

_I'm ready ready ready, give it to me now_

She felt something familiar and painful, without the pain. The bittersweet, but the bitter was a memory. "I loved him so much. But something, someplace, always hurt."

He hesitated. "Not always. But too often," he commiserated. He swallowed hard. "If I was a gentleman about it, think we could be close without dancin'? With the music, but maybe a break between numbers, yeah?"

She paused. There was no place for closeness in the room, unless two people sat on one bed. "I might fall asleep."

"I could join you." He smiled with weary eyes.

She wordlessly sat down on her bed, and he sat beside her, hands still laced. He watched her swallow in the dark and ran one finger up her arm, over her shoulder, until he touched her pulse. Felt it race.

_Give me your love, oh give me your love, baby_

_Give your heart and mind too_

"Wish you could feel what you do to me. I don't pulse. Don't pound. Not like that."

Buffy met his eye, turning, face cupping into his knuckles. "I see it. Here." Her own hand moved to the spot between collarbone and rib cage, watched him shift, chest expand and contract.

Such a slow glide. She didn't know how it happened, that she moved to her knees, and he didn't, that he sat still, feet firmly on the floor, and he melted under her touch, went limp against the mattress at the slight press from her fingers. How she kissed him and watched his muscles stay taut.

_He always wanted control._ She heard Drusilla's lilting voice in her mind. _She never let him have it. _He gives it to me, and he waits to see if I take him further or leave him on edge.

Spike gasped when she moved silently, unexpectedly in front of him, off the bed, now crouching between his knees so he was just a bit taller. "Slayer?" he kissed her with a puzzled grin.

"Hi." She kissed him back. Standing, pushing, and joining him as they fell to her bed together, side by side, with him slightly over top.

Spike's world turned upside down. The position was too much, not a tease, not intentional, but he wasn't superhuman. Well, he was, but not like this. "Buffy, Luv, I think we ought to-"

"I didn't want you to think I would do what she did. Control. I just wanted it to be even."

They moved together, embracing lying down, and he could feel an increase in heat, an increase in his own hardness. His hand found her breast, her hand found his waist. "Not yet."

"I never… I never did this either," Buffy struggled to explain.

Spike frowned. "What the hell did these blokes do, exactly?"

"Sex. There was kissing, making out, and then sex. There was no 'we're just going to touch' and for lack of a better word to suit your big bad-ness, 'cuddle'."

"Oh. No dry runs?" he raised one eyebrow.

"No."

"Me, either."

"How do we know that we-"

"Buffy, I don't know all the answers. Maybe you don't, either? You ever just go about a thing and find out?"

"Not really. Giles hates when I do that in slaying, tends to lead to dead people. And in the romance department, it just gets me hurt."

"You wanna chain the bad dog up so he can't make a move, so he can't bite?" Spike laughed.

She didn't. "No. Never do that. You're not… bad to me anymore. You're not going to hurt me and you don't ever-" Buffy's brain unraveled a bit in sadness and bad images and a lot of questions. "Did she do that to you?"

How had one nasty little comment opened such a well in two dissimilar hearts? Or similar? "For fun," he told almost a whole truth. There had been times when the fun had ended sooner for him than for her.

"I don't think I'm into that."

"I don't really think I am anymore. But if you're worried that I don't know how to behave myself…"

"You're not an animal!"

"You've always treated me like one," he pointed out. "Not fully animal, somethin' less than human. Demons don't deserve the same treatment as humans, isn't that your deal?"

Buffy thought. "It was. It is, in most cases. When someone acts like a man, I treat them like one. You're more human than a lot of people I know, William."

Something flipped inside his head and his heart. William. Not "Sweet William." Not William the Bloody. Not even Spike. " Shit, Slayer…"

Talking was over. He seized her face in both hands, peppering kisses on her lips and cheeks before drinking her in hungrily, and loving the way she responded, pushing her head against his, hands in his hair. "That was sweet of you to say," he paused, wondering what the hell he was going to do with his hands, which wanted to go wandering.

"I meant it," she was having a definite problem ignoring the wetness starting to turn into a puddle inside her. He let out a little growl that seemed perfectly timed in relation to the increase in arousal, and they both froze. "What was that?" she pushed his head back and gave him a look that was bordering on amused.

"Shut up, you know what that was," he moved back to her mouth, only to find it turned slightly away.

"You growl."

"It's a good noise," he won the battle of twists and turns to give her one more kiss before sliding onto his side, next to her, with a sigh. "Maybe too good?"

"Just good enough," she cleared her throat. "Now what?"

He paused. Now what? Hard parts meet soft, the hard and fast, or even the slow and sweet, his body made rampant suggestions.

_Stop now. Leave now. You're gonna get us hurt again, broken. She'll decide a vampire without a soul's no good for her, and you'll already be hers. Cast off again. His _brain and heart made objections that his body refused to overrule.

"I think we hold still," he heard himself saying, but the words were not really meant for her ears. Meant for all of him. _Body, brain, heart, all of you- halt. _

"Good plan," Buffy nodded, trying to breathe without gasping or gulping in air. Acting like a fish out of water? Not sexy. Then doubts, borne of a lot of pain and too many wounds, old and new, began to poke her. Was she not good? Was he not interested in proceeding because of other reasons, besides honoring their friendship? "Did I do something… wrong?"

"No!" Spike looked genuinely shocked by the idea. "We said we wouldn't dive right in."

"I know," Buffy nodded quickly.

"Literally jus' had awkward conversations about this, Luv," Spike tentatively reached out and brushed a strand of hair from her face, reading her eyes. "Huh. Always act so brave, but this bit really dents your armor, doesn't it? Fear that men you want don't want _you_."

Buffy bridled, angry and embarrassed. "Get-"

"I don't think you oughta worry about that with me," Spike cut off her outburst.

"Why?" Buffy demanded, slowly rising onto her elbow, face deciding between softness and fury.

"I've been in love with Drusilla for over a century, Slayer. She's my world. You've seen it first hand, haven't you?" He mirrored her position, but his face wasn't angry at all.

"I know." Her hand's turn for a tentative reach, landing on his shoulder.

"Even when I didn't know you'd be interested in giving us a chance to be anything but enemies- I gave that up. For a shot to help you," his voice was dropping, eyes sliding from hers, looking past over the decades and the recent weeks, realizing afresh, "to be with you."

That's heavy. That's too heavy. Commitment. Commitments hurt. Run. Or at least, don't move forward, the scared girl inside hissed. Buffy's hand refused to listen. It trailed gently from shoulder to turned down jaw, bringing his eyes back to hers. Her lips moved to form words, but nothing appropriate would come. Her heart was full, a mixture of gratitude and relief, feelings of grief as well, sympathy for another who had loved and lost. Somewhere in the mix, a tiny feeling of her own power, her desirability- and the fear that if she messed up, he'd have ruined a life long (death-long?) love. Big responsibility. All that came out was, "Spike?"

"You show the world such a brave face. Like to think I played my part well, evil, cocky," he smirked without malice, a shadow of his devilish smile. "I think I'm weak in all the same places. Actually, don't think what we've got is a weakness."

"Unless you count weakness for each other," Buffy murmured. _Shoot! Wasn't supposed to say that!_

He smiled at her instantly, blue eyes shining even in the dim room.

_Yes. I was totally supposed to say that. _

He rolled onto his back suddenly, heaving a deep sigh. "Damn."

"What?" She scooted over, smiling down on him.

"Think I'm screwed," he admitted. His body nudged that he ought to get up and fight off this new threat, but he didn't. He felt too warm beside her, properly full for the first time in days, and he felt… not exactly safe, but peaceful and close to it.

"Why?" she realized she'd begun to sound more like an interrogator than a date.

"I always end up bein' with someone who has all the power over me," he admitted. "Love's bitch. Not that I-"

"No, I know. But… I don't think so," she worded this carefully as she could. She rested next to him now, head against the hollow of shoulder and neck. His arm wrapped across her shoulder automatically and she snuggled in with equal ease.

"Why's that?" his eyes felt heavy as he pulled her closer.

"You have power, too."

"I'd never turn on you," Spike vowed with surprising conviction. _Hm. Facts, I s'pose. Blood is sweet, sky's blue, Slayer's my friend and I can't betray her now. Even if it hurts. _

_Shit._

"I won't turn on you, either," Buffy put her arm over his chest and buried herself in deeper to his side. "You said I'm afraid the men will leave. The ones I want to stay. I want you to stay," she whispered.

"I will," he kissed the top of her head as sleep stole up on him.

"How can you say that?"

"Well… I don't want to go."

"That easy?"

"Why's it gotta be hard?"

"Always has been before."

"People are doin' it wrong," he forced his eyes open. "I'm afraid you'll leave. You're afraid I will. Is that it?"

"Sounds like it," Buffy shook her head at the bizarre turn of events. Hadn't she been telling him to get out of her town and her life months before? Hadn't she witnessed him doing terrible, horrible things, murdering, torturing? She shifted away.

"When you realize all the blood on my hands, you'll go. When she realized I wanted to change, because of … because of how I felt about you… she went. Good or bad, they leave. I'm the common factor, y'see? What've _you _got to worry about?"

"My own stupidity," she shook her head. _You loved Angel. He did the same things. Then changed. With a soul. A soul that can get taken away. Whatever Spike is, he chooses it. Angel without a soul didn't even try to control any evil urges, and Spike… he helped me put vamps down tonight. He saved the life of a slayer. _"Hey. Maybe we can be weak together?"

"All right," he agreed quietly. _What did that look like? Two scared people, clinging? That'd be okay to have someone to cling with. World was boring, dull, and miserable alone._

"Maybe we could even be strong together. If we don't have to be scared of that one thing. That being left thing."

"I'd like that. Slayer and Spike."

"Friends to the end."

"Nah, Luv. Just friends. Full stop."

Silence.

_Just friends?_

_I don't want just friends._

"Or more. But it doesn't have to end, that was the point," he corrected gruffly. "D'you like the idea?"

In response, sweet, warm lips met his. Tongues joined easily, drinking each other in, then stopping to settle back together, two tired people, sheltered by someone equally weak, equally strong. "Love the idea," Buffy whispered.

He pulled her in and turned, hips to her rear, snuggled up with arms locking around her waist. My girl, he thought as he fell asleep.

"Spike?" Buffy whispered. "You awake?" No answer.

He fell asleep beside me. He'll stay. He didn't "get anything" tonight, and he's still here, still staying. Hasn't happened in a long, long time. Thought it wasn't going to happen again. Who'd have thought it would be the bad guy that makes me feel so good? "Sweet dreams, Spike," Buffy kissed his cheek and watched a sleeping smile flit across his face.

To be continued...


	4. Chapter 4

Friends (Or More)

By Sweetprincipale

Part IV

Sunday means homework. No more procrastinating. Must. Get. Done. Buffy's resolute thoughts were the forefront of her mind as she woke up. Only to wake up to a bloodless white arm flailed out in front of her eyes as she lay in her bed, sleeping on her side. "Aughhh!"

"Bloody hell! Where are they?" Spike, the owner of said arm, roared to life, springing up and taking her down, accidentally knocking her off the bed as he leapt from it.

"Oh, it's you!" Buffy gasped, as last night's events flooded back. Flooded was the appropriate term. Everything drenched her memories at once, the three men in black, her trembling body in the alley, his rough reassurances, and the slow dancing in the dark. Now, waking up in the dim, filtered sunlight, to find him still beside her. Not for the sex, because they didn't have it. Not leaving her because they didn't act on those stirring primal urges.

"Slayer?" Spike looked around perplexed, eyes focusing and then riveting to the disheveled form sitting on the floor, eyes wide as she stared at him. "We fell asleep?"

"Must have," Buffy awkwardly began to rise, blushing, and watched his sinewy pale hand reach for hers. "Thanks."

"Don't mention it."

"Hey- you look better than last night," Buffy suddenly realized, smiling. His color was still pale, but it was no longer chalky and turning gray. His scarred skin was looking better under her scrutiny, though she couldn't see the wound from the taser.

Spike wordlessly rolled up his shirt until the wounded spot was exposed and peered down at his side. "Gone?"

"99%, better," Buffy sighed with relief.

"Good blood, good sleep, good company. It's the cure-all," Spike laughed awkwardly, pushing one hand back through his hair.

_He's adorable when he does that. He looks almost- shy. No, sweet and bashful. _"Oh! Maybe you never did this before, either! Oh, no that's dumb. Arhg! Don't listen to me, I have morning brain," Buffy babbled, and then the mortifying thought of morning breath also occurred to her and she made a sudden beeline for the bathroom.

Spike shook his head. "Never did what? What's dumb? Morning brain?" He let out a sigh and resisted the urge to grab a smoke. He didn't have a foggy head this morning, not in the slightest. And her unorthodox wakeup call had removed the uncomfortable situation of morning wood, as well. Thank God. He didn't want to explain that was a mere reaction, not an intention.

Buffy emerged in a minute, face damp, teeth shiny. "Waking up with the person you went to bed with. Still feeling the same. Like, not waking up to Angelus after Angel, or Parker doing a 'Hey, I thought you knew it was just a casual thing' after some big emotional build up," Buffy paused, trying to calm her anger down.  
"B-but I realized that was silly, because you know, you and Dru must have had plenty of good mornings."

Spike nodded. "Yeah, we did. But," he slowly moved closer to her, words and images swirling in his mind, those promises not to leave, not to hurt, her gentle hands on his neck, and the sudden crushing, swaying hug they launched into when they realized they might be safe, "I also have a first. I loved wakin' up with Drusilla, but in the back of my mind, there was always a little bit of dread. Of when, or if, she'd suddenly take a fancy to someone else, or if he'd come back… Losing her."

"I know what that's like," Buffy realized. That had been the fear with Angel, even when he was good. That was the fear with her own life. Her own mother. One morning, everything could be changed. Even life, lost and gotten back.

Two people, very different lives, suddenly shuddered in a flashback. Both of them realized that part of those tangled fears had involved the person they slept next to. Wondering if Spike would kill Angel, or her friends. Wondering if Buffy would stake Drusilla, if she'd get him before he made it back to his princess.

Old fires of anger tried to flare up, but wouldn't come when they regarded the tensed person across from them.

"We don't have to do that anymore," Buffy surprised herself by speaking in a calm, low voice. _I want something better. Someone who treats me better, who won't change. If he says he won't…_

"We won't do that anymore. There's a better option for us," Spike spoke in the same steady voice that was just a facade, a mask for all the pain underneath. _She can make it better for me, if I make it better for her._

"Deal. Friends?" she held out a hand.

He pulled her into his arms, not to kiss, just to bring her close, look into those eyes, forehead to forehead. "Friends."

_Friends don't stand this close. They shouldn't. They shouldn't want to kiss, watching every motion of those perfect lips- why are his lips so perfect?_

"Friends and more?"

_Not or more._ And _more. Both. Both could be good. Just slowly._ "Slowly," Buffy replied.

"Slowly," he echoed, bringing his lips to meet hers, bit by bit, giving her time to stop it if it wasn't what she wanted.

He needn't have worried. She gave him a long, lingering kiss before pulling back with a puzzled half-smile. "What?"

"Three weeks ago, I couldn't have imagined this."

Spike hesitated. "I couldn't imagine this. But I could imagine helpin' you, not hurtin' you. This is a vast improvement on my original plan," he winked.

"Well, seeing as it was your plan, I'm not surprised," she teased back.

"Braggart," he nibbled her lip.

"Annoying," she bit down on it softly, earning a mutual moan. "Oh, no. No, I can't."

"I wouldn't push you, Luv," Spike didn't let go of her waist, though she pulled back slightly, eyes panicking.

"No, not that. I want to do more- dry runs- like you wouldn't believe, but I can't. Those thirteen hours of homework I mentioned? I think I still have twelve and a half left. For today. Plus, some hot guy asked me out tonight."

"Hmm. If the hot guy helped get the homework done, would there be a bonus in the way of extra kisses?" _Or other things. Blood would be nice. Not hers. But that means bought blood, and she can't pay for your dinner every night, that's "using" someone and you don't want to do that. This is confusin'. Evil but nice is hard to pull off when you're hungry and and she's so soft against you. An' she's still against you._

"I don't know if you could do the assignments."

"I can read!"

"There's essays to write. Sooo much writing."

"I can write!" _Jus' don't talk to me about poetry. _

"Yeah, but can you type? Modern technology stuff."

"Hmm. I can give it a go. What kinda friend would I be to let you suffer alone?"

* * *

"A bad friend. A saner person, but a bad friend," Spike tossed a sheaf of notebook paper at her when she returned.

"Agh! I bought a muffin for you, too! What'd you do? Is that my psychology textbook? Did you shred my notebook?" Buffy slammed her door and stared at the reclining vampire, who looked irritably at her.

"Let's see. Argh to you, too. What sort of muffins? I tried to take notes. Yes, that's your psychobabble textbook. No, I simply tore a handful of pages out. Not shredded, reduced."

"You took notes?"

"On the first four chapters. If that's not enough, you're out of luck, Slayer. Back to the muffins. Don't suppose they had A positive flavored, did they?"

"So much ew. Chocolate chip and pumpkin muffins were the specials. If you want bloody ones, maybe you'd better ask Willy if the bar can put in a bakery."

"Har har."

She ignored him. "As for the notes, I only had to read up through chapter three. I'm a week ahead! I could kiss you! Plus- you have nice handwriting, I can actually read this." Buffy flipped through the papers, easily tossing him the bag, which he caught perfectly.

"Think some of its a load of dribble, mind you. But I remember how to study. Textbooks were much different in my time." Spike saved the chocolate chip for her and ate the pumpkin, walking around her little room with an air of relaxation he hadn't felt in so long. Shouldn't feel, he realized as he pulled his last bag of blood from the tiny fridge and poured it into his mug from last night.

"This is a huge help," Buffy took the chocolate chip muffin and bit into it while tucking the paper back into her book. She leaned against him affectionately, surprising them both.

Shoulder to shoulder, are we? United, enemies no more, Spike found himself musing as he smiled down, and she smiled up.

"You're a… you're a good friend," Buffy recalled the words he'd vented out as she entered the room.

"Am I?" he looked shocked and pleased. "Then we're even, Slayer."

"Yeah?" She hadn't felt like the best friend in the world lately. College was a rough start for an academically challenged girl with a secret double life, plus her first roommate had been demonic, and her Watcher was fired and mopey, and her mother was guilt-tripping and… "You don't really ask for much."

"I like what you give. I liked it before we were anything but enemies. Therefore, no longer enemies," he sipped hastily to cover the growing warmth he got from her, standing by his side.

"What I give?" Her spine gave a little tingle of apprehension, in spite of her silent orders to quell such thoughts.

"Your time. Loyalty. You don't hurt people you care for."

_Do we care for each other?_

"Well," Buffy cleared her throat. "I like that about you, too."

"I believe there was talk of a kiss for the gent who put you a week ahead?"

"You're not a gent," Buffy teased.

He took a sip and considered. "For the vamp, then."

"Spike, you have blood lips!" Buffy pushed him away playfully.

"You have chocolate on your chin. We're messy eaters, is that what you're saying, Pet?"

"I don't!" Buffy licked around her lips and ran her tongue over her teeth.

"Chin, not lips," he corrected, reaching for her face. "You have an advantage y'know, I can never even check my bloody reflection. It's a pain, worryin' all the time that instead of lookin' threatening, someone wants to laugh because you have somethin' between your fangs."

"I never even thought of that. Your hair looks awesome, though. That is, if you like platinum Billy Idol types. Here," Buffy snagged a napkin from the bakery bag and held it out to him.

"D'you?"

"Do I what?"

"Like- the hair." _Like_ me. _I know she does. Damn silly feelings. Insecure feelings. Why do I care?_

_Cause it would hurt if she didn't, after last night. Shit, why'm I doing this to myself?_

"Oh. On you. Yes. It- uh- goes with the whole package," her voice was up too high, her air was running out. _Am I not breathing right? Just smile and laugh. Just friendly, nothing serious. _

_Only I do like this type. Too suddenly, too much. _

It was an odd sight, the former deadly enemies standing face to face, him with his mug, thumb on her chin, her now with one hand on his chest, and the other dabbing a napkin on his upper lip.

Buffy licked her lips, tongue briefly catching the very tip of his thumb, and surprising them both as a sizzle of electricity flared through him from the merest, innocent touch. She saw it reflected in his eyes, the sudden contact that reminded them of something intense from last night. And what's more, a random little intimacy felt surprisingly familiar already and whetted the appetite for more. "You know, I-"

"What the actual hell?"

Buffy and Spike whirled, him with a snarl, her with a yip.

Willow, red-eyes wide, stared with her jaw practically hitting the collar of her mustard yellow sweater. One hand went for her purse, where holy water always resided.

"No, no, no!" Buffy held up a warning hand as she hastily separated from Spike. "Everything is okay!"

"Everything is okay? Spike is in our room! Drinking out of your chocolate mug! You love that mug! And- and there are muffins. And- textbooks. So I repeat. Which doesn't seem too threatening, actually, when I think about it. But still! What the actual hell?"

Spike gave Buffy a mildly panicked glance. Under it there was a myriad of pain, waiting to burst out when he heard her make up some crazy lie, an excuse. Because loyal or not, she wasn't going to put something like him, something evil and tainted above the good humans in her life. That was part of the original loyalty he had first admired, and maybe in time he'd earn a more obvious display of it.

_I can make up an excuse. I can turn the tables, I can ask why she's back, why she looks like she's been sobbing or just got stung by twenty bees on each eye._ "Spike saved my life. Drusilla came back to town, she caught me by surprise, hit me hard, I passed out."

Spike bit his lower lip to keep his mouth from gaping. She was telling the truth- but leaving his role in the horrible parts out. Covering for him.

_Having my back._

_Loyalty._

Willow blinked in disbelief. "Still with the hell."

"She had an iron poker thing. She hit me really hard right behind the ear, I didn't even have a second to react, Wills. When I came to, I was tied up in some dark room, and Spike came in. He was talking to her and - he distracted her. He slipped me a knife to get out of the ropes. I got free and um- um." Buffy met his eyes in a panic. What should she say, what did he want public? What if he didn't want any of this public?

"Drusilla took it out on me for betraying her. Siding with the Slayer, a second time," Spike concluded softly. He hesitated, and then did something stupid, probably.

Buffy's fingers lost hold of the napkin. Spike was taking his shirt off. Flood warnings posted, she thought at first. Her insides seemed to take his undressing and revealing such glorious abdominal muscles as a sexual invitation.

But then she saw why he was doing it. Yes, good blood helped heal almost every scar from recent days, even the taser wound of last night. He'd lifted his shirt, but not taken it off. Now it was off and she could see what he wanted to show- a deep circle over his heart, a five-fingered gouge and twist that must have put him near to dusting.

Willow gasped. "She did- she- because you helped Buffy?" she managed to squeak.

Spike hurriedly pulled it back on, not meeting their eyes. Hadn't wanted to talk about that. But was there any proof more convincing?

"He didn't _have_ to help me. It would have been easier not to do anything. He wanted to. Still wants to."

"Why?" Willow quavered. Shaken by the sight of Drusilla's inflicted wound, she still didn't trust him. "Why would he turn against Drusilla. He- he almost killed Xander and I to make a spell to get her back!" Willow's hand went back to her purse, holy water emerging this time.

"I got tired of bein' with someone who would leave me when it suited 'em. I got tired of… fightin' someone I respect more than I hate." Spike shrugged, revealing the beginnings of the truth, and leaving out the end. Well, the middle. He hoped there would be more to come in this strange story of theirs.

"He's not a good vampire, but he's… not exactly bad. Neutral?"

"Neutral? Neutral gets muffins?" Willow staggered a bit and Buffy caught her elbow.

"No, the muffin is for the four chapters worth of homework I jus' did."

"Oooh! Willow, that TA? Riley Finn? He was out last night when I was patrolling with Spike- skip that for now- and he and two other guys in black SWAT gear came out of nowhere with tasers and attacked Spike and then tear gassed us!"

"I need to sit. I'm having a really- really bad day." Willow's legs gave out suddenly, and then full blown sobbing commenced. "Riley, the nice guy, attacked you? Spike saved you? Spike, Mr. Obsession Guy, broke up with Drusilla after she came back to him? And Oz… Oz left me. To go to Tibet and find- a way to- stop the wolf from coming out because he it's getting hard to control and there are other werewolves who can make these connections with him that I can't and he's… he's gone."

"Oh, my God! Oz left!?" Buffy dropped to her knees as well.

Spike stood by, shocked. The two girls were hugging and clinging, sobbing together suddenly. "I - uh- Bugger the daylight, I'll leave you to this, shall I?"

"Okay," Buffy looked up long enough to meet his eyes. The redhead was bowed down, shaking with sobs.

"The men in this town are idiots. Pure _idiots_," he suddenly spat. Not knowing what came over him, he knelt as well, and spoke harshly to the witch on the floor, making her look up at him. "Oi. This is his bag, all right? Not on you. I'm a man- sort of- an' I know that anyone who'd leave either of you is- is stupid. Completely crackers. An' I gotta go. Now. Bye."

Spike drained the mug and pulled his duster around him tightly, then vanished down the hallway.

Willow wiped her eyes momentarily. "Did he just try to make me feel better?"

"Yes."

"Am I dead? Is this an alternate dimension?"

"I don't know anymore," Buffy sighed. She pulled Willow's wet bangs out of her eyes. "I don't think so. I think… I think this life sucks. But sometimes, you get some good stuff thrown in."

"Spike's a good thing?"

"Spike on our side has always been a good thing," Buffy replied confidently, realizing it was true.

"Oz leaving me is not a good thing!"

"I know, Will. I know. Just keep breathing. I know it hurts to keep breathing, but just keep breathing," Buffy murmured, remembering a broken heart from barely a year ago. Pain so fresh for her, stirred up by Parker and oddly enough- made so much better by Spike. "Want me to distract you?"

"Huh?"

"Spike helped me stick it to Parker and his next unsuspecting victim."

Willow looked interested in spite of herself. "He- he did?"

"I wish you could have seen it! Wanna hear about it instead?"

* * *

Buffy, looking angry and haggard came down the steps of her dorm around eight, heading to the Alpert Crypt in Restfield.

"How's she doing?"

A smoky husk of a voice made her jump, then made her relax. "Not better," Buffy turned to see Spike in the shadows. "Have you been here for long?"

"Not too long." An hour isn't long to an immortal, right?

"Xander and Giles are on their way over. Willow wanted them. I think I have to-"

"Bring them along?" Spike finished.

"I was going to say skip patrol," Buffy disagreed.

"I can handle it for you."

"What if those weird guys with tasers are out?"

"I'm a big vamp, I can take care of myself. But it's sweet that you worry," Spike winked and found himself leaning closer.

Their whispered conversation wasn't out of place to the casual observer. Just another couple. But we're not a couple, Buffy thought as her head swam near his.

"I'm r-ready," Willow appeared behind Buffy suddenly.

"I wish you'd stop doing that," Spike hissed.

If Willow noticed anything out of place about the pair, she didn't mention it. "I want to go out with you. Patrol. I- I can't really get on with my life without Oz, but I have to get up and-"

"Oh no," Buffy whispered as fresh sobs poured out. She turned and Willow collapsed into her arms.

"What happened? Why?" Xander was charging forward angrily across the campus. "Also- Spike? Why is there Spike?" He juddered to a halt, looking angry and baffled.

"Spike? Spike's here?" Giles, coming from a different direction, converged on the growing throng of Scoobies plus one.

"He saved my life, details to follow. For now- Willow huggage. So much huggage," Buffy passed her friend into Xander's bear-like embrace, and then Giles' fatherly one.

"He didn't really leave, did he?" Xander asked in a stage whisper. Willow's howl of misery was enough to earn him a smack on the arm from Buffy. "Ow! Mere mortal over here."

"You think a woman'd put herself through this much pain on a case of miscommunication?" Spike glared. "Little thing is miserable. Cryin' her guts out," he placed a cigarette between his lips impatiently.

"Again, why is Spike here?"

"Life. Saved. News at eleven," Buffy glared pointedly at Willow, who was making short work of one of Giles' handkerchiefs.

"He's being helpful _and _sensitive? Surely, there's a plot? A plot?" Giles asked hopefully, his arms full of weeping witch as he looked at the vampire as if he'd clear things his up,.

"Yes, Watcher, I'll belumber myself with all of you annoyin' types and your grief and your bloody homework assignments, and your bloody stupid remarks just to get in good with you lot… and then what? I bite you? I kill you? Could do that already with less aggravation. But I don't. Not going to. Slayer and I have a deal."

"Homework?" Giles inquired.

"_That's_ the part you want to dive into?" Xander rolled his eyes.

"C'mon," Willow suddenly hiccupped, wobbling upright. "Let's go."

"Did she eat today?" Spike asked Buffy, watching the girl lean on both men for support.

"She didn't want to. I don't think she drank more than a couple sips of water, either. She's heartbroken. I liked Oz so much. Right now, I just want to punch him in the face. A lot."

"He wants to control the wolf?"

"That's not possible, is it?"

Spike shrugged. "I've met vamps who can't control their demon. I can almost always control mine. Sometimes I don't want to, mind you, but... If anyone could do it, probably one of your little whitehat Slayerettes could. But why not take the girl with him? She loves him. She'd go, wouldn't she?"

"I don't know. I think so. Maybe he didn't offer. He must not have offered." She would have followed Angel to the ends of the earth. Willow would have done the same for Oz, surely.

Xander turned around to give the blondes a furious glance. "They look chummy. Too chummy."

"He saved her life," Willow gulped and blew her nose again.

"He says that-"

"Buffy says it."

"It could have been an act."

"No," Willow had many doubts about Spike, but not about his role in the rescue. "He helped her get away. He wasn't the decoy. He was the sacrifice," she shivered suddenly, imagining what happened to the vampire. What had been done to him by someone he loved, loved and protected for over a century. Probably hurts like this, she thought, before she started crying afresh. S_uddenly feeling like your heart is clawed out by someone you trusted, even if the motive might seem "good."_

"Dear, I think you really ought to sit this one out," Giles said kindly but firmly.

"No! I can't just sit and sob anymore, I did that all day," Willow wiped her eyes roughly.

"You're still sobbing, simply walking while doing it. It's not conducive to patrolling. Why don't you and Xander head back to your dorm? Or my flat? Or-"

"If I leave with Willow, who's going to watch Pale and Platinum over there?" Xander hissed, again, stage whisper carrying.

"Oh really? You think the Slayer can't handle me? She needs a teenager without any superpowers to give her a boost?" Spike called out.

"Why is this about Buffy? Why isn't this about what _I_ want to do? No one is e_ven listening to what I want to do_! Why didn't _h_e listen to what _I_ wanted?" Willow pushed off from Giles hard, screaming in her outburst, tiny crackles of blue spasming from her overwrought fingertips.

"Will, you're right, you're right," Xander rushed forward to soothe his friend, only to find her windmilling away from him angrily.

"Oz _told_ me! He didn't ask me, he told me he had to do it, it was his choice. I'm all with the respecting people making choices and decisions but it wasn't just about him, it was about us! I loved him- no- matter what he-" Willow's breathless words suddenly sounded much more labored, the air around her seemed to sparkle with some sort of mystical static.

"Catch her!" Spike suddenly shouted.

"What?" Xander turned to look at the vampire, Giles looked for threats, and Buffy and Spike sprang.

The combination of grief, low blood sugar, and the magical drain on her system finally collided in Willow's body. Spike heard it, the sound of someone falling asleep, only this wasn't gradual, it was all at once, hard and fast. Passing out, heartbeat slowing, body falling- in this case into traffic.

He shoved the redhead back into Buffy. He caught the front fender of the Chevy pickup at twenty five miles per hour, horn blaring in his ear, and recently injured body reset to square one as he was flung backward, leaving skids in the grass by the sidewalk.

"Spike!" Buffy's wail covered up Willow's waking gasp and Xander's shout, Giles muffled cursing.

Spike sat up, covered in road grit and blood. "I shouldn't hang around you," he smiled weakly as Buffy raced to his side, Willow now deposited on a sidewalk bench, her head supported by Xander. "Knives, tasers, now even the bloody traffic turns against me. I thought bein' on the 'light side' had better compensations."

"How bad?" Buffy blinked back tears of her own. Tears that shouldn't come, but sprang up, unbidden and stubborn. _He almost got- well, maybe it wouldn't have killed him. It was scary to see. Your new friend, mown down, flying back with a sickening thump. _

"I gotta go back to Willy's," Spike gingerly felt his shoulder. Maybe not broken, but fractured. Helluva bruise if he dared to peak. And definitely, he winced as she helped him up, cracked ribs. Multiple.

Giles was next to them suddenly. "Here," he passed him a silver flask. "Can you walk?"

"Not too far," Spike realized, and tipped the silver bottle back hurriedly. Stinging amber fluid bolstered his morale, if not his damaged body. "Don't fuss. Fuss over her. She keeled over. I heard it, the sudden drop in heartbeat, pulse, everything. She just went out, like a light was flipped off inside her."

"Magic requires energy. She didn't have it to give, but I saw the magic try to emerge. She calls on it in times of stress, danger… She must be feeling so much pain right now," Giles looked to the bench. Xander's eyes met the trio's. Willow's head rested on his shoulder. "As a Watcher, not that anyone ever listens to me, I say that this patrol is done for tonight. Willow needs food, rest, and a friendly shoulder. I'll take Spike home, and you tend to -"

"I'll take Spike. Xander can help Willow. They can crash in our dorm and I'll head back to my mom's. She's been bugging me to pay a visit anyway," Buffy said, bluffing for the last half of the sentence.

Spike knew it, too. He looked at her with a subtle shift of his pounding head, but said nothing. Giles hesitated before rising, tucking his flask away.

"I will not question this prestigious moment in my career. You agreed with me- at least for fifty percent of the suggestion."

With that, Buffy and Giles helped the vampire limp to the bench. In an odd twist of fate, the heartbroken girl and her rescuer were now propped up next to one another.

"Thank you," Willow told him hazily.

"Ta, Red. We even? Saved you once, after threatenin' you once?"

"So not true. Mathematically," Willow opened bleary eye. "But okay. For now."

Xander hung back as Giles and Buffy helped Willow back up to the dorm room they'd only exited a few moments ago. A lot can change in a short time, he realized. But Spike playing nice? That wasn't something that changed. He might help, for something he wanted, something he needed. If it wasn't obvious- then it was probably dangerous, dark, waiting for the right moment to spring.

"I don't trust you."

"I know that. That's smart. But I will be worthy of the trust in this one area. B'sides, you don't have to trust me, you have to trust _her._ Do you?" Spike met the brunette's eyes.

"Not when it comes to vampires. Or… guys in general, actually."

Spike gave him a knowing look. "It's not her that earned the mistrust. It was those idiots. But, I'll let you tell her about your opinion." He watched the boy flinch. "In the meantime, I'll be beyond her reproach, if not yours."

Xander recoiled from his words. The vampire he hated second most in the world (Angelus had the top spot) had saved Willow. And Buffy, apparently.

_The world, and more importantly, my two best friends, are here because of this guy. _He knew he should feel a kernal of gratitude. He did, somewhere in there. He also felt seething anger in him that didn't have a clear focus. Jealousy? Frustration? I _need to save them._

_I already have. I do the world-savage, in a supporting role, sure, but that's okay. Spike is evil. There is nothing in the world that will ever-_

"You didn't trust Angel, even with a soul, did you?" Spike tried to light up, but his shoulder didn't want to work. "Little help?"

Xander took the lighter with a grunt and flicked it open, briefly considering just dropping the flaming thing into his lap and watching the vamp immolate. "No. And I was right. He still hurt her, even as a 'friend.'"

"Understood," Spike regarded the human in front of him. Read the lines of disgust and anger. Nothing making that go away. And unless it did- what would the girl choose? The loyalty to a friend of years and endless battles, or a new ally who happened to understand her pain more intimately than the rest of the world ever could? "Y'know, it'll hurt her if you don't let her try."

"What?" Xander looked startled. He didn't converse with Spike. He'd heard Spike monologue, bully, bluster, brag, threaten, and sob drunkenly. Normal speaking was out of his depth. And the words. _Spike worrying - or pretending to worry- that Buffy gets hurt?_

_That's weird. And … it means something. I don't know what_. "What do you mean?" Xander repeated roughly as Spike finished a long drag on the cigarette.

"She wants to try this out. Buffy. She knows I'm done with tryin' to hurt her. I'm already hurt enough, an' I'm sick of fightin' with her. I'd rather be an ally than an enemy. She likes that. She thinks I mean it, an' I do, whether the rest of you believe it. She wants this," Spike's eyes met Xander's calmly. "You tell her to end it before she tries it, she's gonna lose someone powerful in her corner. Someone who could do more than just help her out, someone who might actually be able to match her in a crisis, like the times you used to need Soul Boy." It was a bluff. He wouldn't change sides again. But the boy didn't need to know that, and sometimes the best hands were the ones you bluffed about.

"She shouldn't have needed him," Xander spat. "He was always a mistake."

"I agree with you," Spike chuckled darkly.

"You? Agree with me? Cue the apocalypse!" Xander looked for flaming comets to strike the ground.

"I hate him. As much as you hate him. No, worse, had longer to hone my skills."

Shocking them both, they shared a bitter laugh.

"Just because he was a mistake, doesn't mean you're less of one."

"All right. Fair point. D'you wanna be in the club?"

"What?" Xander recoiled, thinking of only the fanged-up kind of club.

"The mistakes, boy. 'Cause she could have somethin' from me, that she never got from Angel, nor Angelus. Someone who could stick it out when it counted, when she needed a friend. Not a good man, not a human, simply a friend. Ones who don't turn on you. Won't ruin your chances."

Eyes didn't meet.

"You can't be her friend," Xander ground out.

"I can be loyal. I can know when a bargain's good. Getting on her good side is a damn sight better than bein' on the receivin' end of a stake. I know not to eff this up for myself, or for her. Do you know as much?"

"Know as much as who? Or what?" Buffy paused, trepidation on her face as she looked between the two men.

"He wants to be your _friend_," Xander said the statement flatly, but there was a ripple waiting under it, something incredulous and waiting.

Buffy's throat squeezed down, temporarily blocking her airway. She coughed. "That's good, right?"

"Did you also get hit by a car? Is this the result of a head injury?" Xander hissed in exasperation.

"Spike wanting to be a friend is better than him being an enemy. Enemies don't save your life, or your friend's life. Until he does something stake-worthy, Spike is a - a weird sort of ally-slash-permanent truce- slash-friend. Done."

"I won't break this one." _The boy thinks I mean truce. She knows I mean her. The heart. _

"Buff-"

"Mistake to argue with powerful women," Spike murmured nonchalantly as he looked down at his nails.

"Willow needs me. Don't turn your back on him," Xander hugged her quickly in passing, glared at Spike, and stalked into the dorm.

Buffy stared after her best friend, guilt and anxiety gnawing at her. Then her head turned toward the silent figure on the bench. Something inside quieted with him. She sat down next to him. "I won't, you know."

"Yeah, I guess I bear watchin'," Spike gave a hollow laugh. He should have been preparing for this moment. The moment when it started to hurt, though they both had promised it wouldn't this time.

"No. I won't turn my back on you because friends don't walk away when you need them. Come on. Let's get you home." Buffy gently slid her arm under his shoulder, watching the brash smile turn to something sweet, hopeful. His arm tightened on her back and they limped together, side by side.

To be continued...


	5. Chapter 5

Friends (Or More)

By Sweetprincipale

Author's Note: Thank you, reviewers! Also, my full-length "Spuffy" novel _CrossRealms: Shattered_ by S. is now out on Amazon, and it's free if you have Kindle Unlimited. Please go check it out!

Part V

"This may seem like a dumb question, but did you ever get the homework sorted?"

"No. But my first class is at nine, so I'll get done what I can. If Willow feels better, she'll probably channel energy into correcting my grammar on the one essay I did start."

There was silence, broken by the pained stifled sounds he tried not to make. "She's not going to feel better," Buffy admitted softly.

"Not until he comes back for good, or she finds someone who won't leave. Although, gotta say, not to bring up past indiscretions, but she and the boy, not the wolf, the other one-"

"Xander."

"They were quite the hot item when I-"

"Hey! You only knew about that because you kidnapped them. Don't bring it up. Not helping."

"Understood."

Buffy was silent. She could feel his weight sagging against her, and she hated the feeling. She was strong, but so was he. He shouldn't be weak like this, not a second night in a row. Shouldn't be hurting, and yet vampires and Slayers, they were constantly taking a beating.

"Angel treated me like I was so fragile. Poor little blonde bimbo, handed destiny and a stake," Buffy muttered.

"You said it, not me," Spike swallowed remarks that ached to burst forth regarding her bimbo-ness.

"I liked that he didn't think I was completely tough gal, nothing but warrior. I didn't like that he thought I was ninety percent prom queen, though."

"Where's this going?"

"You aren't one hundred percent warrior guy. Demon, evil vampire baddie kinda warrior, but- not completely."

"No. Suppose I can't lie about that to you. Wait-" he half-fell, stopped and did something to his busted shoulder that earned a string of curses.

"I like that there's gentle with you. And it goes both ways," Buffy finished in a rush as soon as they were moving again. Gentle was a word she didn't feel comfortable using in connection with Spike, or herself, not outside of certain intimate situations where it felt safe.

Do I feel safe with him now? I guess so.

There wasn't any tensing up around him. Only worry that he was hurt. And prickling fear in her head that he wouldn't like the term she'd just used either.

"You called me a warrior."

"In conjunction with the terms baddie and kinda," Buffy reminded him.

"No one's ever said that about me."

"I'm sure your minions thought it," Buffy said with a strange feeling of friendship-borne loyalty.

"Maybe. To me, warrior implies you fight for a noble cause."

"There can be evil warriors!"

"Why are you supportin' me?"

"You can't walk right? You kissed a Chevy?" Buffy discreetly looked for skull fractures.

"Not physically. You're makin' with the verbal support, the proppin' up my ego."

"Want me to stop?" I think I should stop.

Silence.

"Spike?"

He mumbled his answer self-consciously. The bruised face didn't help, either. "When you say things, I like the sound of 'em. Didn't used to. Used to annoy the bloody hell out of me."

"Mutual."

Their eyes met with a sudden smile. "Friendship changes a lot of stuff," Buffy finally whispered softly.

What kind of stuff? Both of them were wondering. They moved closer together, falling into step more perfectly, her slight figure working to accommodate his injuries. He felt a little hum in her blood that hadn't been there before, and through his pain, something was rising to answer it, provide the other half of the soundtrack their bodies were making. "You wanna come in tonight?"

Come into his place. Alone. He could turn on me. He could turn me on. Wow, funny what you can do when you rearrange just a few little words. "What about blood?"

Damn. "I forgot."

"You forgot?" Buffy stopped and he didn't. Spike went pitching forward only to be snagged back, cursing vehemently over her gasping apologies. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry! I… How the heck could you forget you need blood? You're hungry and hurting and broken."

How could I forget that? One knitting shoulder says it'll take three gallons of the best, keep another few humans on standby for afters. But then… "I was thinkin' it'd be nice to be with you, no danger of interruptions. That's all." It truly was. Imagining her alone with him, like they were last night, or even closer, blotted out everything else.

"That's really… sweet," Buffy marveled. Romance novel sweet. Deepest kind of friendship sweet. Shouldn't happen. Why not? If you save each other's lives, which we have, you can be sweet. "That was unexpected."

"I know. Red seems like a keeper, can't imagine what that idiot's thinking," Spike muttered, shaking his head.

"What? Oh, yeah, that break up was crazy unexpected. But you saving me was unexpected. Us… like this was unexpected."

"Give you that," Spike huffed, limping along. "If I'd have known how much pain it entailed…"

Buffy held her breath.

"I still would've done it, Slayer, it's just a bit painful to talk. I think my jaw's out of socket," Spike wrenched his mandible about for a second.

"Here, I can help." Buffy put herself in front of him, laying a hand on each side of his face. Reeling a bit, he put his good arm on her waist for balance.

"Liked this better when we were dancin'," he laughed softly.

"Yeah, well-" Buffy suddenly twisted his jaw back into place with a harsh "pop." "Maybe we can do that later," she suggested over his brief roar of pain. "Sorry!"

"Better now," Spike admitted.

The two walked on in silence. "Not long now," Buffy encouraged after they turned onto Thousand Oaks Drive, just two more blocks to go. "Can I ask one more thing?" He nodded. "You and I didn't part on good terms. At all," Buffy reminded him. "You couldn't have known we would end up even talking, let alone being friends."

"Yeah, your point?" Spike snarled slightly, longing to just get into a chair, and maybe the wooziness would evaporate.

"You decided to save me anyway."

"True."

"Why?"

Why indeed. Throw away years and years with one woman he loved, for something that might never be anything. Yet, it was turning out beautifully, aside from the frequent injuries. "We talked about this already. The night of the angry frat boys and hot cocoa." He grinned.

"I was just wondering what put the idea in your head in the first place, though. I know you said you were tired of being my enemy. I guess… I wondered what sparked that. What set this really wiggy train of events in motion." I'm wondering the same things but in reverse. So what if someone saves you? He's tried to kill you more. What makes you take a risk?

He considered. "Two reasons. No, three."

"A list, goody," Buffy joked to cut the tension she felt.

"I'm a gambler. I bet on a good return." He winked so she'd know there was seriousness under his shallow words. "I always hope. I'm not a quitter. I hoped that if I took a step in a new direction, the road would be there." And if it wasn't, I'd have kept trying to make inroads, until you staked me for it… "Lastly, I wanted you to be in this world. To be the kind of person- I wished I had in my corner, the way you are for the rest of the little scrappy band, the Slayerettes," he concluded quietly.

"The way you are, for the people who matter to you."

She got it. She saw the good part of him, even though she knew he was evil. "Perceptive, aren't you?" he breathed out unevenly.

"Like you," her own lungs seemed to falter.

* * *

"This isn't - terrible," Buffy helped him through the door.

"Oh do stop, spare my blushes," Spike snarked back as he pushed off and made it into the recently repurposed recliner, taken last week from the dump. He struggled out of his coat and winced at the tears in the leather. "Sod. Loved that coat."

"Willow can magic it back, good as new. Or Giles will know a tailor. Either way, we'll fix it," Buffy promised. She paused, looking at the coffins, the recliner, the microwave, the faded and worn Oriental rug. He tries. Gets by.

I don't know if I want my friend to live like this. Angel at least had an apartment. Not much, but- Stop. No comparing. She turned her eyes back to him, watching him undo the laces on his boots and reveal dried blood on one ankle and shin. He's beat up. Like, a lot.

"Spike?"

"Hmm?"

"Vampires should heal faster than you are, or be a lot harder to injure."

"Slayer, if a human had met that truck head on, you'd be looking at multiple body bags, one for each section, all right?" he groused. "I'm fine. Better once you get to Willy's."

"I'll go right now. How many bags do I ask for?"

"Four. Cash in the pocket," he nodded toward his coat.

"I'll get it," Buffy waved him away.

"How?"

"What?"

"How do you pay for my upkeep, Luv? It's not on."

"No, I can. I have- ways," Buffy didn't want to admit that those ways meant a small allowance from her mother. She'd need a job this semester, and fast. "I can sometimes. This time, definitely."

"You just said the other night you've gotta look for a job this semester."

"Spike. What's the price on saving the life of my best friend? Plus mine?"

He ignored that comment. Truth was, if things hadn't tipped in her favor by him, she'd still have won. But Red, now… "Fifty-fifty split, all right? Take the cash while I've got it."

"Do you need anything else? Aspirin? Bandages or gauze or something? You really should have a first-aid kit."

That'd be good. Funny her thinking of that. Like she cares if I get better. Guess she does. What a head trip. "I'll manage. I feel better sittin' down. Wanna sit with me?" he smirked. He managed to look sexy, even puffy around one side of his face, gashed and bruised from hairline to jaw. "Mind the ribs. The shoulder. Basically this whole side." He gestured vaguely.

"Oh, Spike," Buffy found herself sighing and coming back to his side. "Thank you. Again. I know, I know I said it, but Willow's my… Willow's the closest thing I have to a sister. Xander's like my brother. I can't imagine life without them, and you may have really screwed up in the past with both of them- no, scratch that. You totally screwed up, but thank you for saving her now."

"New steps, Luv. Right direction." He looked up at her with a lazy smile. Her hand found his good shoulder, and his hand found her wrist.

Take care of him. He'll take care of me, too. It's - weird. But good. "I'll be back fast." Buffy leaned down and kissed him softly, fleetingly on the lips. "You'll be okay?"

"Peachy," he winked. "Take half the money. Okay?"

"This time, okay." Buffy fumbled through his coat which had a surprising amount of pockets. Knives, stakes, lighters, cigarettes, cash, broken necklace, folded lottery tickets and beer bottle caps. "Spike, you gotta clean this thing out."

"Lecture me after I'm better, Luv," he grunted and shifted painfully.

"I'll make you feel better as soon as I get back."

The words hung in the air. Make me feel better? How? Some definitely x-rated images assailed him and he tried to blot them from his mind's eye. Think about those later. When I'm alone and free to let my mind wander...

What does that mean? I mean… there are things that I could do, I guess. Sponge off the blood, make sure he ate, help him get comfortable, all of those things, that'd be okay. Images of decidedly naughty ways of nursing him back to health also pushed themselves into her mind. Oops. Not like that. But part of her wanted to think about those thoughts in detail, once she was alone.

They parted with an awkward smile, both trying to ignore the curious, slightly hungry gleam in each other's eyes.

* * *

"Six bags. I told Willy I would donate two 'Get Away from the Slayer Free' cards for his raffle. There's a 'death to an innocent exception' on there, but petty demonic-ness I can overlook," Buffy recounted breathlessly as she returned to the crypt.

"That's mighty broad-minded of you, Luv. Thanks. Also- what? Willy's holdin' a raffle? What're the other prizes?"

"Um, there was a washer/dryer and a 'clear your bar tab' ticket, and I think there might have been a basket of kittens. I don't want to know about that, do I?"

"Nope," Spike swiveled his head and watched her tentatively open the microwave after finding his chipped white mug, recently nicked from a busy diner where they didn't notice his light-fingered removal of several spoons and a bottle of tabasco along with it. "Your get out of bein' killed passes will be the big-ticket items now, Luv. I hope you got all the bags for free."

"I was too busy to be a good negotiator," Buffy admitted. She hadn't liked the puzzled, then furtively knowing look Willy gave her when she asked for blood, all human again. "This is the last of the human blood he had in stock. He said he was running low. Next week he should have a shipment."

"Animal it is," Spike sighed."At least until the new shipment arrives."

Or willing donors, Buffy found herself thinking, pouring the blood into the mug, swallowing hard where he couldn't see her. No. I don't want him to be degraded and go to a "bite house", but I don't want to be used either.

She brought the steaming mug to his hand in a moment and looked into his pleased, grateful eyes. Quietly, deeply appreciative eyes. Giving to a friend isn't being used.

"Easy!" Spike took the mug and noticed her hand was trembling, grip shaky. "Did Willy say somethin' to you? Did you have a run in with-"

"No, I'm fine," Buffy quickly covered. "I was just thinking about how glad I am that you didn't get hurt too much this time."

"My fractured ribs beg to differ." Spike sipped hurriedly.

"Ribs heal," Buffy murmured, looking around for a place to sit near him. Too bad she couldn't drag a coffin over.

Spike hesitated, and then with a painful groan, reached down with his good arm and threw back the corner of the rug, revealing a trap door. "You wanna sit on the edge of the chair with me? Or… there's similar accommodations to what we had last night."

Last night seemed like a million years ago. Last night, her bed, curled together. "How?"

"Oh, the basement level? It's got a few amenities for the discerning undesirable. This was a demon's lair once. He was leavin' town, found out from the locals it wasn't goin' to be used so I figured I'd take it over. Got a new bed, unloaded the car, and once I cleared out the larvae-"

"The what?" Buffy yelped.

"Skip that bit. It's nice enough downstairs. But the ladder might be a little tricky. On second thought, maybe we better-"

"We'll figure something out. I bet you'll be feeling better after a couple of baggies."

"Say pints, Luv, it makes me sound more like a hard drinker rather than a vamp who's housebroken," Spike grumbled into his mug.

He finished two bags and then stretched. "Well, fractures are still fractured, but prob'ly in a day or so it'll be just fine. Maybe even in the morning."

"Let me give you a hand," Buffy offered as he tried to stand.

"Nope, not yet," Spike quickly reversed course as his ribs complained. "You wanna head back to Red?" Spike asked suddenly.

"Huh? She has Xander, and even though I realize that may not sound ideal, he's been her friend practically since birth and he'll distract her and maybe even get her to eat and nap. Things I failed at today," Buffy sighed. "Why?"

"I don't think I'm in any kind of shape for dancin'. Or patrollin'. Or anything but sitting." That's not worth anything. That's when Drusilla would always leave, wander off after perfunctorily feeding him.

"Scoot over then, I guess," Buffy said, eyeing the chair critically. "If you lean a little to the right, I can just wedge myself onto the arm. Or, you know what? I can sit on the floor. I'm fine with the floor. The larvae weren't on this part, right?"

"No," Spike leaned with a wince. She hesitated between the floor and the chair, and his wince turned into a sound of contentment as she carefully joined him. "You don't have to stay."

"I wanted to. If you wanted me to," Buffy bit the inside of her lip, an anxious habit. "Do you want me to go?"

"I'm not used to friends who stay," Spike admitted, shrugging with his less damaged shoulder.

"Maybe they realized you would always be there when they needed you, so she - I mean they- took you for granted."

"Nice of you to keep up pretenses, Luv, but you called it. She didn't have as much patience for recovery unless it was hers. She was raised that way. Darla and Angelus were exclusive until they had a fancy to somethin' else, would help each other as long as they could get away unscathed by the effort. They taught her to-"

"It's okay. The reason doesn't matter," Buffy soothed, hating to see him tie himself in knots, and hating to think of Angel as the one who would abandon lovers so easily. She'd been beating herself up all these months for his leaving her, and maybe- maybe part of it was still that survival instinct, that "leave to save yourself and to hell with the other person's heart" instinct from centuries of selfish faux love.

Not like Spike. "It doesn't matter why she left. I'm not like that. I don't care that you can't walk much or dance tonight. I just like-" her head bowed to rest on his, "being around you."

Lips raised, mouths met, brains veered off course. "Can't do anything more dextrous, either," he fibbed. If she wanted to have a go, he'd bloody well give her one. But it'd be easier if she thought he wasn't a "threat" to her virtue for the evening.

Except she's smarter than she looks. And she'll hate me for lyin'. I don't want any more hate between us. I'd rather have some- well, never mind that. Just no more hate. "I s'pose I could, strictly speaking, but I don't plan on luring you downstairs to have my wicked way or anything like that."

"Good," Buffy looked relieved and they shared a smile. Then another kiss. "I've heard that."

"Heard what?"

"Wicked way. That means to have sex, right?"

"No finesse, Slayer, honestly." Spike rolled his eyes.

"Shut up. So, if you're evil, is there some particular 'wicked' in the wicked way department? Inquiring minds want to know." And possibly store the information for future use.

Spike considered. What was evil? Pain, death, violence. Sex could accompany plenty of pain and violence, yet oddly enough anything "violent" had been consensual, rough and sharp between two lovers with their own arsenal of claws and talons. Never a death from him, but from Angelus and Darla, yes. Plenty. They hurt and turned, ravaging minds and bodies without separation. "I didn't want the wicked. I wanted her," Spike whispered finally.

"Wicked was an afterthought?" Buffy murmured back.

"More like a side effect. An' I'm enjoyin' it, most of the time," he admitted. Loved the demon's strength, speed, power, immortality. Didn't love the loneliness anymore. What's the point of endless life if you're miserable and gutted during it? Didn't love the way people could turn on each other anymore. What's the fun "What's wicked to you, Slayer?"

Shoot. He turned the tables. "Hurting people. Hurting innocents, hurting people who counted on you. Lying. Stealing in a non-survival-y way. Killing, which of course falls under the hurting people category."

"Then no, I'm not particularly wicked. I might steal a kiss, which wouldn't be strictly for survival." He winked.

"That was terrible," she groaned, laughing.

"You needed a laugh. I love your smile, Pet. Haven't seen it much lately. Or much at all."

"Well… you used to equal bad, frowny things," she reminded him. "But now…" her fingertips trailed lightly over his collarbone, over a chest that was broken and battered, matching the heart inside it. "Now whenever I think about you, I smile. Even when I don't really want to."

"I'm just that awesome, Slayer."

"Maybe a little bit," she teased. Another kiss, another trail of hands, his uninjured side getting into the action. "I think… it'd be easier to do this, the kissing part, if you were lying down. You wouldn't have to look up and I wouldn't get a crick in my neck."

"You want to try another dry run?" Spike offered in a voice that he hoped was nonchalant and even. "Modified for the disabled vamp?"

"I… I don't even need that. I can just talk lying down. Or- or sitting up. Um. I'm easy. No! Flexible! I mean- not like that." She stopped talking at his snort of laughter. "Glad to see your 'make fun of Buffy bone' isn't cracked," she huffed, blushing.

"It's not exactly making fun of," Spike denied. "Besides, I'm glad you're flexible." His face turned into a leer.

Her cheeks went from light pink to dark rose, suddenly hot. "Why's that?"

"You're gonna have to be to maneuver us down there," he informed her, all joking aside.

"Oh. That."

_To be continued..._

_End note: The next scene is significant, so please forgive me for ending here. I needed a reasonable stopping spot before the next long scene._


	6. Chapter 6

**Friends (Or More)**

**By Sweetprincipale**

_Author's Note:_Thank you! Oh my goodness, some of you lovely readers make my day! Thank you to those of you have purchased the book CrossRealms: Shattered by S.C. Principale. The book is based off of 'A Model Romance" if any of you read that work (one of my early Spuffy pieces). It is free with Kindle Unlimited: Cross-Realms-Shattered-S-C-Principale-ebook/dp/B07RZ8T8GR

Also- Thank you for reviewing these chapters. I was going to stop writing- pretty much did for two years. You are bringing me back, folks. Maybe one day I'll be brave enough to answer reviews ;)

Second note: Picks up immediately from the end of the last chapter.

* * *

**Part VI**

"I would kill for this comforter set! Where'd you get it?"

"Nicked it!"

"Oh. Well… I can kinda see why," Buffy lit candles with his lighter. She thought it made sense to go down first and light their way. Her Slayer training also told her to check for threats and traps, but her friendly instincts told her she'd find nothing dangerous. Well - she glanced around at a case full of weapons and a bunch of intimidating looking books and relics stuffed on top of them -nothing threatening to _her_, anyway. And the bed- king sized, covered in plush red sheets, all silks and satins. "I didn't think this was your taste."

"I can kip anywhere. I had this - before." _For Dru. To please her._ There was a lace canopy as well, but he didn't bother with it now.

Buffy mentally kicked herself. _His whole unlife- he thought of her. Angel freaked when I wanted a drawer for my stuff. No comparing!_

_But I'm totally comparing._ Her throat clogged up, and she caught the faint whiff of smoke that had nothing to do with menthols. She looked around and identified some charring on the bottom of the chest of weapons. _Right. Because she torched the place. _

_Wicked demons. Murderers. Spike, the old Spike, he deserved that, right? _

_My friend has pretty much nothing, but he doesn't complain. He's oddly content… except in one thing. Same thing I want, but don't want anyone to know about._

Suddenly, dry runs, even with someone severely limited in his range of motion, seemed like the best idea in the universe.

* * *

"If you ever tell anyone about this, I'll bite you. An' look at the position I'm in. I could make good on that threat," Spike snarled, low and menacing.

"I could drop you first," Buffy returned sweetly.

"That's an excellent point." Spike looked heavenward. _This is my final humiliation for the night, right? Riding half "piggyback" on the Slayer as she navigates the shakiest ladder known to demon, good leg dangling off uselessly 'cause I can't shift around without hurting myself or sending her down- which would also hurt me, since I'm the "passenger."_

"I won't tell," Buffy gagged at the necessary pressure of his arm against her throat. "For one thing-" She missed a step and they fell heavily, cursing. "For one thing," she concluded, "you just broke my windpipe."

"See your windpipe and raise you a hairline fracture," Spike quipped, staggering to the bed with her help.

"I'm so sorry!" Buffy was genuinely contrite as she watched him fumble for footing.

"Me, too. Hey, now." Spike met her eyes in the candlelight. "Honestly, I'm on the mend, Luv. Don't look miserable for me."

"I don't know how to tell my face to hide my thoughts sometimes," Buffy shrugged.

"Pity doesn't suit me. Though I believe you called me pathetic on a regular basis."

"I'd rather be pathetic for a good cause than noble for a bad one," Buffy realized, joining him on the bed, perching on the edge.

"Oi! Not good… exactly." He looked ill at ease. Love was always good, in his mind. And the rest of the world seemed to put it up there with the greatest good in the universe, so… Shit. Had he been partially good this whole time?

"Love is good." _Oh, but not between us. I guess, someday it could- no. Shut up, brain. Tired, fried brain._

"If it was good, you'd think it'd hurt less. Maybe it's a bit evil." He looked slightly cheered by the thought.

"Who said good things don't hurt?" Buffy challenged. "Slaying hurts a LOT." _Mentally, physically, emotionally, it ruins wardrobes, relationships, family gatherings, families period._

"Come to the dark side, Luv. We have cookies."

"You what?" Buffy surveyed his face worriedly. Could vampires have concussions?

"Saw it on a bumper sticker," he gave her a crooked grin.

"Why don't you get some sleep?" Buffy rolled her eyes. "Your wit is tired."

"Yours is nonexistent," he snarked back.

"Hey!"

"Teasin'!"

Silence fell for a moment, confusion halting speech. _We tease? We snipe, we laugh, we have moments where it's all serious. _

"Sorry I don't have a radio down here. Or up there. I'll get one someday. Maybe I can talk Willy into rafflin' one." Spike rearranged himself again, trying to find a comfortable position.

"I don't need music."

"I don't think I even have human food in here."

"Spike. I don't need music. I don't want food. I think- all I need is you."

World tilting. _All she needs is me?_

_What did I say? _Buffy's mouth popped open in surprise.

Heads tilting.

"Need you, too." _Oh no. What did I say that for?_

Lips meeting.

He sighed into her much warmer mouth. _Oh. I said it 'cause it's starting to be true. _

Bodies falling, one gracefully, one with tight shifts. They helped each other down with little hisses of pain and murmurs of worry.

_This is what it's like to love someone. To be loved. Her eyes don't waver, don't suddenly skew off, voice doesn't suddenly rant or lilt._

_She's sane. Dru wasn't. You loved her madness. It wasn't her fault she was like that. She was_ made _like that._

"It wasn't her fault she couldn't love me properly," Spike whispered in the candlelit room, good arm raised to cradle Buffy's head as she settled in beside him. "I tell myself that."

"Seems like a good thing to say. Probably true. Definitely true." _Because if you wanted someone to be there for you, love you devotedly, fight for you, worship you, care for you… he'd do that. He'd annoy you, he'd make tasteless jokes, but he'd do all the other stuff that outweighs that. _

"I think it was my fault he couldn't keep loving me."

"What?" Spike sounded genuinely shocked. "Slayer, he had a _curse_. Curse given to him a century before you were born, so-"

"I think I - I think wanted more than he could give."

"What'd you want, Pet? Tell me."

"Well, when I say it out loud it doesn't sound like a lot, but you have to -"

"-to stop making excuses for him?"

"You make some for her!"

"_Tell me_." He locked their gazes. When she saw there was nothing barbed in those eyes, simply the face of a friend who would listen, maybe she would open up.

He was right. There was a short struggle, and then it came out in a rush. "I wanted… something normal with him. I know that's dumb, because he wasn't, couldn't be. I'll never be normal, either. I wanted to fool myself for a little bit. I wanted to sleep over at his place, keep some of my stuff there. A little drawer with sweaters and socks and a brush. I wanted to talk about the future, even if we didn't know what it would be. I wanted… someone who knew I couldn't have it, but would try to give it to me anyway," she ended in a whisper, eyes down.

_And that's bad? _Spike felt his temper prickling."Look sweetheart, that's what people in love _do_. Sod it all if you aren't normal, love doesn't give two shits about _normal_. When you love someone, you make your own bloody normal!" His voice turned to a low roar, anger at Angelus for the way he'd mucked up two wonderful women suddenly channeled into one speech.

"Very profanely profound," Buffy acknowledged after a moment. _He's pretty profound in general, under the cursing and snarking. Angel said a lot of "big things." Spike… He does, too. And he lives them out. _ "You just accepted her the way she was. That was your normal."

"Until she left me. For good. Yeah. An' the last time, it was my fault. Love's a bitch. It hurts. Normal is whatever you make it. But… it shouldn't hurt all the time. Not _all _the time," his voice faded to nothing.

"You keep getting hurt with me around."

"That's just physical stuff. Patches up fast. Inside… you confuse me a bit. You annoy me a bit."

"_I _annoy _you_?"

"Lemme finish! I don't hurt around you, Slayer, not in the way that I wanna change. The inside scars are the worst ones, and you don't leave those on me. Besides, you have a healing touch, might work wonders on whatever scars are formin' on my ruggedly handsome exterior." He turned his face into her hand as she stroked his cheek.

"Kiss 'em better," she laughed into his collarbone and pecked her lips softly up and over, fingers caressing as they both relaxed.

"How much better are you aimin' to make me?" Spike let out a low growling breath in a few minutes, one that was meant to remind her not to get carried away. To remind himself of that as well.

Buffy paused. She could make him better. _Really_ better. Slayer blood was powerful. It had cured Angel who was pretty much guaranteed to die. But that was a lot. A little ought to at least do something for fractures. "I wish I could make you one hundred percent better."

"I… I want that, Luv, but I'm not a fool- all the time. Do things with my 'friend' before she's sure, an' she'll… leave. Run off, all nervous and doubting. That'd make a mark in me, Slayer. That's the kind of scar tissue I have enough of."

_He thought I meant - physical stuff. _Different _physical stuff._ "Are you sure _you_ want to?"

"No. Slayer, I - did I mention you confuse me?"

"Right before the intense kissing, yes." Buffy bit down a laugh.

"That's not fair! I know I want to, I know I'm sure because I'm me! Bloody hell. Now I sound like one of those barmies who has two voices in their heads."

"You _do_ have two faces. Literally on your head. Although, you do take turns, so at least you're not like some two-headed fr -"

"Buffy!" Spike glared.

"Shutting up. Go ahead."

"There's this gorgeous, stong, hot woman- who's sweet an' amazin' to me, and she…" Spike paused, well aware that anything he could say, truly _anything_, could backfire. "She's giving us a chance, even though it's sudden and unexpected. I love bein' with you. I'd love to do anything you want, Slayer. I just don't want to get hurt when you decide it was too soon and you tear outta here." _An' you tear part of my heart out with you._

"Spike, I wouldn't hurt someone like that. I've already been on the receiving end of that."

"Me, too. Just the bein' left part, didn't matter if it was after a night of passion or for no particular reason."

"So," Buffy gathered up her courage. "Not that I'm rushing into stuff, but _if _we did, I don't think you would leave, either."

"It's a deal."

"Deal."

_Wait. Did we just agree to do what I think we agreed to do?_ Buffy gave him a panicked sideways glance.

"It's just ground rules, Luv. Basic decency, workin' out the rules of engagement."

Engagement. Buffy let out a hysterical giggle.

"Slayer! I'm too weak to have another go round. Settle yourself!" Spike hissed.

At the mention of his weakness, she sobered. "I wanted to make you better."

He licked his lips. Y_es! Take her up on it. Pull her on top, tell her to drive this ride, tell her you'll return the favor later, when you're not broken. Strength for strength, tender for tender, any way she gives it to you, you can return it. You've got_ decades _on her, you could have her begging for you night and day if you … No._ "I'd love that, Slayer. I'm too busted to take you up on it."

She sat up and peered down on him, eyebrows knitted. "You just gave me the out."

"I'm held together with denim and skin, Precious, _I _need the out," Spike snarled, not meeting her eyes.

"No, you really don't." _And that makes me crazy about him. Suddenly, extreme ramped up levels of crazy_. Buffy lunged her lips down, stopping short to make sure she didn't put any weight on him.

_She could have you begging night and day, too._ Spike groaned into her hungry kisses. "Too good for me." He seized her shoulder and used her for leverage, scooting up a bit to kiss her back. "Friends oughta stop about here," he warned her.

"Agreed," Buffy's mouth managed a word between kisses. _We're not friends. No, we are, but we're waiting to be something else. It's not _if, _it's _when. _Weird, but I like it. Like him. _

The more he tucked her into the satiny softness of his bed, with the hardness of his arm and chest against her, the more she realized she felt safe with him. The more the rest of the world and the past blotted from her brain. _There's only me and him. We can make our own normal, if we want._

"Friends stop at kisses and cuddles," Buffy agreed. "And taking care of."

"You've done wonders, Buffy," he easily admitted.

"You have blood on your clothes."

"It happens. Risks of the profession. Yours, too. Gotta get me that bleach pre-wash thing you mentioned."

"Do you have stuff to change into?"

"Uh- yeah." Spike looked startled.

Her lips twisted into the cute half-smirk he was beginning to find adorable, not punchable."Not like I'm trying to undress you for less than upstanding reasons-"

_Something of mine is pretty damn upstanding at this moment, and she probably knows that. _"You want to do laundry?"

"Maybe you'll win the raffle for that washer," Buffy winked. "Seriously, do you want me to help you get into some clean clothes?"

"I don't think I can get my arm out of this shirt yet, Luv. I don't have a lot of wardrobe at the moment, so maybe we'd better leave it intact. I don't think you can get it off unless you tear me outta it."

_Tearing off Spike's clothes._ "Does your mind go to really… _odd_ places sometimes during our conversations?" she asked tentatively.

"Not odd, exactly. Definitely not platonic, let's say. But always tasteful!" Spike hastened to clarify. It wasn't exactly a lie… people had different definitions of tasteful, after all. Then- "Why? Does yours?"

Her answering blush made him chuckle. "I'm flattered," he purred, running one finger along her arm. She stiffened, suddenly giving him a look that was a cross between bashful and uncomfortable. "Not allowed to enjoy the fact it's not one-sided? C'mon, Slayer. You're the poster girl for unselfish. I already shared what you do to me. Don't mind if I get an inkling from you," he coaxed.

"I'm still waiting for someone to turn obnoxious and throw any weakness back in my face."

"I was already obnoxious. You've known my weaknesses for years, Luv." _And now you're one of them._ "Done with hurtin' each other. From now on, I'll only throw nice things in your face."

"Um. Thank you?"

" Damn. Maybe I'm lightheaded," he laughed off his clumsy speech. "You know what I mean?"

"Yes, I got it," Buffy allowed herself to relax against his light touch and they shared a smile. _He means he thinks of me like I think of him. He's not ashamed to admit it, he doesn't want to make me uncomfortable, he doesn't want to rush. He wants to be happy and not get hurt. _

_Isn't that whall the normal people want, a happy, non-harm-y relationship? He could be my normal. I could be his. It could be mutual. It could be loyal. _

_One day, it could be more._ The L-word loomed near recently broken hearts and wasn't ready to risk another attempt.

"You wanna spend the night or head home, Luv?" Spike finally asked as they resumed their semi-spooning positions, face to face, hands on faces and shoulders and waists, nothing overtly sexual even though it had gone beyond mere friendliness. "I'm no advert for desirable bedfellows, I admit that," he gestured to his stiffly angled body, trying to keep weight off injured parts, blood spattered clothes that wouldn't be removed. _Only a fool would take you up on that, William._

"If you have indoor plumbing, I'm fine," Buffy agreed.

"I have a semi-human friendly loo. There's a tap and a toilet. I think there might be the toilet roll to go with it."

"My place wins on the amenities," Buffy wandered down the little side tunnel, past a network of hanging roots, holding her breath that nothing creepy would drop on her.

Spike listened to water running and exclamations of dismay over the state of the facilities. _I'm gonna have to move. _

_No. No way, this place is fine, rent free and I don't -_

_-want her to feel uncomfortable around me or have to rush off. _

_Putting yourself at risk, bein' love's bitch again. Worse. _Like's _bitch. Beyond like, but still..._

Buffy came back and crawled shivering into bed beside him. "Your 'loo' is freezing. And dark and creepy, no offense."

"Matches the owner," he joked.

"It's functional, so points for that," Buffy chattered, moving in closer to him, even though he wasn't warm. Somehow, pressed together, he felt like he created warmth. And safety. Healing.

"Functional. _Partially_ matches the owner." They laughed and while his mind was relaxing, it did one of those gambles that he hadn't planned out. "I can't afford to move outta here."

"I understand!" she said quickly.

"I bet we could make it more user friendly, if you were gonna visit on a regular basis."

"I'd like that. The visiting. Not the renovations. I can deal." Her hand lingered on his cheek. "You deal with a lot."

"So do you." His touch mirrored hers.

"Sometimes you want to give someone something that'll make it easier for them. You know it might be completely weird and wrong, but you just…"

"Don't care, because it'll make 'em happy?"

"Yeah," she whispered. Her heart sped up as they moved closer. Lips returned to each other, and his hand snaked past her side, holding onto her back.

Little sounds of passion mingled with sharp huffs when a twinge from one of his injuries made itself known. Every breath, every noise intensified the strange thought in both minds.

_Don't care about the big bad rep. Don't care about the past. Care about now. Anything to make 'em happy. Make her happy. An' selfishly, I'm happy when she's happy around me. I hate how she erases what's bad in me… _He pulled her closer, a gasping sound arising when her elbow accidentally slid into his ribs_._

She winced with him and redoubled her attention to his lips. _Don't care about the past. If it hurt before. If it scared me before. If he and I hated each other before. I'd love for him to be better, right now. Or at least sooner. I could help. It'd make him happy. And, so weird- I'm happy around him, and I'd feel happy if he was happy. _

"I-" Buffy couldn't make words. Her stomach didn't knot in the cold, sick way it had before that night in the ally. It knotted in an apprehensive way. He wouldn't reject this. But what would happen next? Was this a line you didn't cross? _Yes!_

_But I've already crossed a line._ Her hands buried in his hair, letting go of everything but him. _What's one more?_

"It's all gonna be okay. Between us," Spike swallowed, the taste of her in his mouth, the scent of her hair and the sound of her heartbeat drugging him. "I'll - we-" _I'd help you have normal. We could make some kinda normal, you and I._

She stopped, rising up slightly, eyes on his, shining in the gray, shadowy alcove. _Sex would be easier. Maybe. I don't know. I don't know a lot of things anymore._ "I'm supposed to have it all together," Buffy's thoughts manifested in a tiny whisper.

"So 'm I. Had so long to get it right. I'm starting all over again." He found her hand and their fingers locked, naturally.

"New beginnings." Buffy smiled wanly.

"What we're all about, you an' I," he returned her smile, wondering where this was leading.

_Try something new. It's not new, it's old, it's…_ Buffy ran one fingertip along the swollen portion of his face. _It's complicated._ "It's complicated."

"Ah. That's what they say before it goes belly up." Spike tried to sit. Not going to be given the shove while lying down. Seemed less dignified somehow.

"I don't want to go belly up! Us! Or me!"

"Normal might be a touch complicated at times," Spike said, using the British gift for understatement. "Mainly because people have to read so much into everything. I'm as bad as the next one, Luv. Heart gets too involved."

"The heart's involved?" she mouthed, barely audible.

Spike gave her a classic deer in the headlight's look. "Sorry."

"It's okay."

_But she didn't say it back. She didn't say anything_.

"Slayer-"

"Shhh. I'm not good with words."

This would leave a bitter taste, but had to be said. "I think you are."

"Proof you're mega-injured." Her smile returned, gentle lips set in tight jaws.

He couldn't figure it out. Not tonight, and he was already using up a lot of his limited supply of patience. Her signals were muddled, her body pulling toward his, but her motions weren't sexual, and then throw in all the back and forth of this disjointed conversation and being sore and damaged. "What's happening?" he finally asked, hating not knowing, feeling suddenly like he had Drusilla and her bunged up brain to deal with again.

Her jacket was already off. Slid her shirt down low, not off, pulling one shoulder free. Laying down again, slightly above him, neck at mouth height.

_Holy shit._

"Get better," she whispered, lips to his forehead.

"I _am _better. Infinitely better." His lips moved, but his eyes were riveted to the expanse of peach tan before him. Eyes taking in the miniscule twitch of her jugular.

"I'm not shaking." This time.

"I know."

"So go ahead. It's okay, Spike"

Demon crept out, and he was too tempted to stop it at first, but his features flashed and reverted in the space of a heartbeat. "If I drink- it won't be much. Because I said no more hurting you. But, if I drink… maybe I lose anything we've got. An'I don't want to get better at that price. All I want… is to keep what I have."

"Not more?" She didn't move, and her voice wasn't challenging.

"Not more. Have a bad feeling this kind of 'more' ends up leading to less."

"Stupid vampire," Buffy sighed sweetly, the affection in her eyes not matching the epithet.

"Again with being confused."

"This isn't how I push you away. This is how I… show you. That it's okay. Between us, it's okay. My friend is going to get better. I'm going to be with him. I'm going to help him. Like he helps me, from the heart." She closed her eyes tight and steeled herself for the admission. 'Cause my heart's involved, just like his."

Her eyes slowly opened. He was looking at her with awed eyes. A moment of staring down, then staring at, taking each other in. Her slow nodding gaining his, heads gingerly leading the way back together. "Here," he ran a finger along her slender arm, feeling for the soft, slight pad of cushion above muscle.

"Here what?"

"Just a kiss, Luv. With teeth."

"Necks are traditional."

"We aren't."

"True."

"Won't hurt if you let me do it my way."

"If you do it wrong, you know I can-"

"End me before I blink? Yep, I know that." He suddenly gave her a full-on saucy smirk. "I think that's why this'll work, Slayer. In our own little way, this madness is about equal. Didn't you say you'd fight me to first blood?"

She let out a little hysterical chuckle before she could stop herself. "I don't think you're in any shape to fight."

"Already fought off 150 horsepower, Baby. Blood has been spilled. All mine. Couple nights in a row."

"Again, true." _That's right. I've been safe each night I've been with him. He saved me, got hurt. He helped me, got hurt. He came to visit, did my homework, saved my best friend- and got hurt_.

"You win. First blood was mine. You're just makin' it fair."

It wasn't about fair, or equal, or fighting. But he knew she'd feel better if somehow it was, if it could be tallied up and broken down like that.

"That's only a part of it. Little bitty part," Buffy whispered. Her eyelids were suddenly on flicker as his tongue did something undeniably erotic to her arm. "Holy - how? My arm does not have those kind of nerve endings."

"Relax and I'll help you find more of 'em. Speaking of little bitty parts…" His hand laid on her hip and worked its way up until it his the light underwire on her rib. "Was it just last night?"

"When we were 'close'?" _Last night, give or take a million years and a million miles away…_

"Weak for you."

"What we have isn't a weakness, since it's mutual. You won't leave. I won't leave."

"This won't be every night, or every time. This isn't why I … this isn't why I want to be with you, Buffy."

"I get that. I really do. Otherwise…" Buffy's heart did a tapdance as his thumb traced over her breast, finding the peak. "We wouldn't do this."

"Trust me. Friend to friend," he echoed the words from last night.

Words stuck in her throat, then slowly escaped as she relaxed. "I do, Spike. Trust you."

"I won't make you regret it." The words came to him so readily. _This is going to happen. This is the more, beyond friends. Once you share blood and she's not your victim, she's… part of your life._

_Well, she was meant to be. You came looking for her. You just didn't know why._

Electrical currents zipped up her spine and made her arch up into his hand. "Oh, oh, ohhh, wow. This is new." Angel didn't do this. Parker was handsy and grabbing, but it didn't feel like this. This was blatantly orgasmic and she hadn't even known that was possible in this location.

His hand kept busy, working through the outside of the material while his lips took a tour of her mouth, collarbone, up and down her arm. "You've got Slayer senses. All of your body was built for a little extra attention. An' I was built to give it."

"A match." She let her hand wind down to his hip, and stay there, fingers curling into belt loops.

"A match," he repeated wonderingly.

His head was nestled against her side, hand busy at the opposing breast. He heard her sigh, and her heartbeat slowed.

"This is so weird. So relaxed. Like I could sleep and all the bad things would go away, and only good things like nummy nipple feelings and super comfy beds and a super handsome man are the only things left in the world."

His lips made a circle on the pulse above her inner elbow. "You said handsome man. Not handsome vamp."

"I know you're a vampire, but you're my man, too, aren't you?" Her hand shifted his fingers and her back arched as he flicked a sensitive tip.

_Oh. I just said he's… _

_Oh. _"Yeah. That's right. I'm your man. You're my Slayer." His face shifted, parts shifted below. _This is my Slayer. Third time is the charm. This one is mine. This one is_ mine. "My beautiful, sweet Slayer." He reverently kissed her arm and his teeth slid in.

She gasped, a pinch that throbbed, but it throbbed in a good way, radiating through breasts and hips, and instead of jerking away like she should have done from a biting vampire, she rolled and convulsively dug her nails into his scalp, jaw locked, eyes closed, panting as her head curled down to his.

He was done in only a few seconds. He wanted to kiss her more than he wanted to drink her. And this Slayer was more than just powerful. She was special.

_She's my drug. My wonder drug._ Bones were strengthening, pain was ebbing out as he lifted her up with both arms now. Oh, he wasn't fully restored, but it was a huge leap. "My girl."

"I guess so. Guess I am." Buffy watched him lick his lips and didn't feel revulsion or fear. She felt… connected.

"You all right?" he asked. Her eyes were sleepy and starry looking, not the sight he'd expected to see.

"Yeah! And you are, too!" Her joy was instant as she realized _two_ good arms were now around her. "Wow. That fast?"

"There's something special about you, Buffy. Part of it's the 'Slayer' side. The rest is all you, Baby."

She didn't tell him he was special. He didn't mind. Her lips were busy.

* * *

"I can walk you home."

"Resting is better. How many days would it take you to completely heal?"

"I just accelerated the rate with my little aperitif, Pet."

"What pair of teeth?" Buffy looked puzzled.

"A shot of you does a body good." Spike smirked.

"Spike, I'm serious."

He hesitated. "I suppose we are, Luv. However this goes or how long it takes… if neither of us wants to leave…"

"I meant I seriously wanted to know how long it would be before your bones weren't crunchy."

He answered without missing a beat, blanching inside. "I bet tomorrow night I'll be fine. How about I do the sweep and you handle Red?"

"How about I handle Willow, you heal, and I drop in after patrolling on the way over?"

"I'm not a-"

"How are we going to delve into this whole new 'seriousness' if you keep getting broken and zapped?" Buffy rolled away from him, letting his arm drape over her waist. She yawned, but her brain has just had a moment of high energy panic. _Serious? Serious!? There's no serious between Spike and me!_

_Yes, there is. Don't waste time lying. It doesn't help. _

"I'm not tryin' to hurry you along, Luv. I just meant… well. There's no one else I want- anymore." They let their mutually aching memories have a moment of silence before he pressed ahead with a resolute smile. "So I'll be here. Not leavin'. Which is quite-"

"-serious," Buffy concluded. "Are you freaking?"

"Bloody hell, yes."

"Me, too."

_Then why isn't she running out of here? Why aren't I? This has all the potential to bugger up everything. _Everything, _full stop._

"We could freak out together?" she suggested quietly.

"We seem to make a good team."

"Exactly."

"And I like bein' with you."

"I like that, too."

He tangled his hand in her hair, curling it and stroking it. "Beautiful."

"Thank you," her sleepy body felt a momentary surge of interest, but it muted itself quickly. "It hurt so bad. The last time."

Her and Angel. Him and Dru. "I know that sorta pain."

"I'm not scared of you. I'm still scared of other stuff that might go along with you. Being together."

"Only a fool isn't afraid of pain. Fear is natural. It's the body's way of protectin' itself."

"Aren't you going to do some big speech about how I don't have to be scared this time?" _That's what Angel would do. Swear to protect the teenager who knows more about diet soda than holy water. _

"Why? _I _am. I don't want you to get hurt, so why would I tell you not to trust your instincts and- mmmpph!" Spike's eyes shot open and his words crashed to a halt from the sudden tornado of blonde and pink kissing him to silence.

"That was _perfect_. And if you ever tell anyone I said you were perfect, I'll stake you." She pulled back, eyes fierce.

"Duly noted," Spike muttered as kisses resumed. "We're never gonna get any sleep if you keep this up."

"I _do_ need sleep. I have to fake my way through classes tomorrow, plus Willow, plus patrol, and then you. I'll probably come in, sit down- and fall asleep. Oh my God. Do I snore? Do I drool? Wake me if I snore or drool!" Buffy blurted, hand to her forehead, pretty eyes comically wide.

"It's fine, Luv!" Spike laughed. "I'll be happy to see you, however much you dribble. Oi!" he took a light slug to his uninjured arm. "I'll sleep along beside you. The more rest I get, the better for the bones, I reckon."

They laughed. They sighed. He thought she was almost out. Then-

"Spike?"

"What, Slayer?"

"Guys get pushy after a certain number of 'dates'. Like three or four."

Which, if we count the various disasters we've endured together lately, we're right about there, Spike mentally calculated. "Yeah? Then push 'em back. I'm immortal. I don't have any pressing appointments, Slayer."

"So if we get to move beyond friends… I mean, since we _did_…" _Yeah. Not going to waste time lying to myself, either. Denial looks gross on me and so does clueless. _

Lights and pinballs were pinging about in his chest, but his voice was calm. _She said it, flat out. We're beyond friends. Could I get that in writing? _"Yes?"

"You don't mind if it just stays here, at this level for awhile, right? Without..."

"I don't mind."

_Talking about the future, even if we don't know what it is. Little plans. Pick up the bleach stuff, wash the clothes. Who covers patrol? Help the friends, make his place "user friendly", helps with the homework, bring back breakfast and blood. _

_This is normal. My insanely abnormal version of normal._ Her shoulders relaxed as she let out a breath she felt like she had been holding for almost three years.

_But look who it's with. This is wrong. And pretty terrifying. Mostly because I think I might not care, because everything that I did "right" went wrong, so where does starting off wrong lead to? Someplace right?_

_I don't know. _

Spike felt the pliant shoulders suddenly stiffen and her breathing came out in a sharp gasp. He instinctively hugged her more tightly, head against hers, lips to her ear. "I've got you."

_Yeah. He kind of does. But… I've got him, too._ "I know. And I'm glad."

_To be continued..._


	7. Chapter 7

Friends (Or More)

By Sweetprincipale

Dedicated to: SusanMarieS, Concy, RagAnne, Brokenblackrose89,samcazao, mother wilson, pgoodrichboggs, all the awesome readers who like this little story!

Part VII

"Slayer? Buffy, wake up. It's time to go," Spike murmured in her ear.

Buffy blinked and looked up. The trap door was open and only a few candles were lit. dim, gray light filtered down, letting her know that morning had arrived. Spike was standing shirtless, a mass of bruised flesh, but otherwise healed. And hot. "You're walking! Walking better!" Buffy's smile lit up the room, and her elated tone made him beam back at her.

"I'm limpin' and my arm won't extend over my head yet, but I'd say I'm ninety percent, Luv. Thanks to my girl."

She sat up. _There it was. Last night happened. My girl. My man. He- he drank me. He made me- oh boy. _Her cheeks flamed. _I had a teensy mini orgasm from biting and second-basing. With Spike._

His smile went wooden. His eyes took on a guarded look.

_No! Not that look. That's the bad look. That's the look when someone yanks the rug out from under you and everything that was safe the night before is cold and ugly and fake the morning after. _"I wish I didn't have to rush off, but- life of a wannabe regular college girl with best friend boyfriend drama awaits." Buffy slid from the bed and over to him, semi-shy looking. _I'm not sexy. I can't seduce. _Angel seriously had laughed at her attempts. He was somehow jaded and older, reserved. Then the next minute, making out hot and heavy, yet it was all about love's purity. There were cravings, but it was really odd. Right now, if you asked her, she couldn't tell you just what it was that her first love had craved, except it wasn't all of her. It had become parts.

Spike watched her falter. There was confidence there, and then confidence shuttered itself knew how it felt. He was used to prowling and flaunting. Which might put her off completely.

_And when I'm worried, I just wanna reach for her._

_When I don't know what to do, I just ask him. _"Hi," she was inches away, the smile not sensual, not shy, something in between.

"Good morning, gorgeous." His hand found her hair, and then her cheek. "Do friends get good morning kisses?" He flirted mildly.

"No… but _you _do. You're not just a friend anymore."

"No, that's right. I'm your man. Your vampire." They kissed longingly and she let out a little squeak. "Too much?"

"Not exactly." _We were going to be slow. And cautious. And not get hurt. I'm not hurt. I'm being cautious. But I think _I'm _the one who's stabbing me with the pokey stake of doubt. _

"I'll see you after patrol and whatever else you need to do. I'll stay put- _this_ time. Only because it'd be nice to have a twenty four hour window between annoyin' injuries," he quipped.

"I'll bring blood if you want?"

"I've got leftovers from last night. Tell you what, if the limp is gone and the shoulder is in working order, we could head down to the butchers or Willy's together. Later?"

She nodded. Then shook her head.

"Well, which is it, Luv?"

"I know I said I'd come in and probably fall asleep immediately after class and patrol and Willow-comforting. I'm feeling pretty refreshed actually. I want to stay in with you tonight," she whispered, biting her lip. _Which is probably suggestive. It was suggestive in my head. Agh! No suggestions!_ "Oh! But not to - not to do things. I meant, I -don't know what I meant exactly. I then realized that I sound like a jerk if I'm saying let's just stay in and you don't get to pick up your own dinner. I'm not selfish, I'm just- mildly stupid before coffee, sometimes?"

He chuckled. "Dinner. Then staying in. Or goin' out. Whatever suits you is likely to suit me."

"Yeah? I want to go see a ballet," Buffy playfully challenged him.

He raised one eyebrow slowly. _Testing the waters, are we? This craft is seaworthy. _"All right. I liked the ballet when I was human. Dru like it, too. She had a thing for long, graceful necks."

"I no longer want to go see a ballet," Buffy frowned. "Staying in? Post-food finding?"

"In some cultures they call that 'dinner', Slayer." He kissed her one more time, and felt her lean into him. Felt her temperature rise. "What's a normal night in for two not-just-friends like us?"

_Heart pounding. Clogging up ears. And brain. Not good_. "I - homework. Training. Oh! No, no training. Gotta get better. I'm sure you're pretty sick of homework, so-"

He cut her off, eyebrows lowering, brow lining. "Buffy, do you think of things only in terms of the bloke you're with? What they want to do?"

"No! That ballet thing was not what springs to mind when I think 'Spike.'"

"I don't want this to be one-sided. I _had_ one-sided."

"It's not. How can you-"

"Oh, not about the interest," he reassured hastily, hugging her tightly, not caring for the sudden pain in his shoulder. "I'd like us to be more than friends, yeah. I haven't had a proper friend in decades, just plenty of people who were in it for what they could get. I know you're not like that. I'm not like that- now."

"So what are you saying? You itch to spend a night trying to understand remedial biology?"

"I bet we'd be brilliant at biology." Spike winked. "Chemistry, too."

"Your wit is still tired," Buffy smirked back.

"I like bein' with you. I like helpin' you. You help me. You like that, or else last night wouldn't have happened. We could- this is a radical idea, but I've heard it spoken of highly in human circles," Spike paused dramatically, "make compromises and find things we'd like to do together." He and Drusilla had that once. And he had been happy. Those days and nights were glorious. And now, they wouldn't hurt, wouldn't suddenly shift, and he wouldn't have to look after someone fragile and hurtful by turns.

Buff blinked. "That sounds… reasonable. And nice. And again, pretty perfect. But if you tell anyone I-"

"I'm staked, I remember," he laughed and released her with one more kiss. "Your common interests and mine might not mesh too badly, Luv. I wouldn't mind goin' ten rounds with you. I like huntin' up things that put up a good fight. An' if there's any practical hands-on sorta labs in your biology book…"

"It's not _that _remedial." Buffy was surprised to find herself laughing easily with him. "Now, the chemistry…" her arms twined around his neck and she pulled him in for another kiss. "I like waking up with you."

As soon as she said it, her insides froze.

"What? What's wrong, baby?" Spike's eyes roamed over her, smelling a sudden wave of fear.

"No… Nothing. Nothing now, I just- I said that to Angel once. Right after that, is when I told him I wanted my future, abnormal as it would be, to be with him. It all started 'cause of spending the night and I - then he-" Buffy made a sad, confused sound. 'I'm sorry, Spike. It's nothing."

"You told him. He thought about what was 'noble' and he told you to take the abnormal version of normal and shove it?"

"In a much more heart-rendy way."

"Hm. I like waking up with you, too. I don't even have to be in bed with you the night before, Buffy. It's always a good night or a good day when you're around me. Now, of course. Not so much last year, but-" Spike shrugged and sniffed in loudly, one of those manly, "I'm perfectly confident' sniffs that hides a lot of worry. "-that's all in the past, init?"

She nodded vigorously, letting out a breath, pasting on a glowing smile. The female version of the overconfident noise. Yep. So, I have to shower. I have to check on Wills. I'll see you tonight?"

"It's a date."

Another kiss. Walking her to the door. Another kiss. And one for luck. They parted ways.

The didn't part thoughts.

_I have a date._

We _have a date._

He smiled all the way back to bed.

She smiled all the way to the dorm.

* * *

Buffy paused outside of her own door. Listening for sounds of sobbing or talking. Nothing. She carefully opened the door to reveal a glassy-eyed Willow, staring at nothing, tear-streaked cheeks and mussed hair. Xander was lying on her bed, dead to the world. "Hi?" she whispered, sliding into the room.

"It's okay, I'm here! Tissues!" Xander woke up, bellowing reflexively. "Oh. Hey." He waved as he took in his surroundings. "You're back. Good. Wills?"

"Alive."

"Are you going to class?" Buffy hesitantly asked.

"No."

Xander looked between the two of them. "Wills…"

"There's no point. There's no point without Oz."

"Oh, Willow-"

"Xander," Buffy shook her head meaningfully. "I have to go to class, but then I'll come right back. I can bring ice cream. Chocolate? Chocolate ice cream?"

"I'm not at the grieve-y eating stage," Willow said in a hollow voice. "This is somehow payback. For me and Xander. Last year."

Xander stumbled forward, protesting. "What? Wills, no! He and I even hung out! It's- he knew it was some kissing. Some misplaced feelings. Oz would never be petty. He's forgiving. He loved you enough to put that in the past. I mean, talk about a quiet but honorable- I'm not helping, am I?"

"He wanted to control the wolf, you said that last night. You said there were werewolves that could connect to him, and he didn't like they could do that. He wanted to be in control. It's not about you," Buffy soothed.

Incorrectly. Willow rolled to her side, knees to chest, fresh sobs beginning. "But shouldn't it be? Buffy, shouldn't it be somewhat about me? I mean, I know I'm not perfect and I made mistakes as a girlfriend, but shouldn't I be involved in this decision? It affects me, too. He said… He said his whole life he'd never loved anything else."

Buffy felt tears trickling down her cheeks, for her and for Willow. "I know what that's like." Angel's voice, trembling in sobs he wouldn't release, telling her that in his whole life and unlife, he'd only ever loved her. He'd always love her. And they wouldn't be together.

"Did he say when he'd be back?" Xander stood awkwardly, watching the two strongest women in the universe (in his opinion), who were also his best friends, crying over men. His fists itched to punch both of the absent lovers, even though he sincerely had come to like Oz and distantly tolerate Angel when he was in possession of his soul.

"He said he didn't know if he ever -" Willow's words were cut off by a wet, shaking breath. "He wanted to be away from people. Where he couldn't be a threat. And I told him- people are everywhere. I don't know how far he'll go, or how long he'll think is long enough. All I know is- he's not going to be with me."

Buffy shook her head, uncomprehending this sudden shift in Oz's attitude, his betrayal of Willow. "He's not a threat here! We have a place for him to chill when he's all wolfed-out."

"I know! So it doesn't make sense! I mean, it doesn't have to make sense to me, but it should make _some_ kind of sense to me, shouldn't it? Since to go take care of himself he had to hurt me so much?" Willow asked beseechingly. Buffy and Xander had no answer for the heartbroken redhead who dissolved into tears once more.

"For the record, I did way better comforting last night." Xander plopped down on the vacant bed with a groan. "I'm striking out royally. And, I have work. But, I could call off, I-"

"No, you go!" Willow shook her head and waved weakly. "It's fine. I mean, obviously, I'm fine, right? Why else would Oz think I wouldn't need him around? I'm living just fine with half my heart missing!"

"Willow-" Buffy tried to stem the torrent of angry, tearful words, but she failed.

"Because I'm totally fine to come home and find a vampire in my dorm room and then passing out and getting hit by a truck!"

"Technically, Spike got hit by the truck," Buffy pointed out tentatively.

"Spike was in your dorm room? That means he can come in at any time!" Xander looked at her, aghast.

"He's not hurting anyone! He's saving people!"

"I know women aren't supposed to want men to save them, but this is a Hellmouth and I liked having a partner in the saving! My Oz partner." Willow whimpered. "My mom will gloat. She'll say this is the wake up call I needed to escape from patriarchal stereotypes in relationships. She'll say this proves musicians aren't suitable."

Buffy hesitated, but Xander did not. "Okay, Will, that's acting like your mom would give two rats' asses about anything in your life. Which we both know, she doesn't. As long as you look perfect on paper, which you do, 'cause you are, then she's fine. It's kind of the exact opposite with my parents. As long as they assume I'm failing utterly, they're happy. They don't have to use brain cells to store new information about my actual successes, of which there are precious few."

"I don't know how to do this," Willow let out a particularly poignant gasping sob, wet eyes turning to Buffy. "It hurts so much and the only one I think would get it is Oz. And he's gone. I can't talk to him."

"No, Will, listen. You can always talk to us. Right?" Buffy elbowed Xander as they clustered around Willow in a supportive sandwich.

"All the time," Xander said. "Except I need to go to work in about half an hour…"

"I know what it's like to want to reach for the one person who hurt you. Sometimes, I still want Angel to come in and wrap his arms around me, tell me we can fight it together." Buffy's voice drifted. "But that's a fairytale. I thought that was the way it should be- and it isn't. Angel was the one who told me that. Love isn't a fairytale. I have to give him credit. He was right."

It was Willow's turn to give Xander a significant glance, raising her head slightly. "Buff?" Xander lightly touched her shoulder. "You miss Angel that much?"

"Well, I miss him. I know he's not coming back, but-"

"Is that why you want Spike around?" Xander asked in a rush.

"Huh? They're nothing alike! This isn't about me! This is about Willow. I wasn't trying to shift attention to my problems, guys, honestly. Willow, you get that, right? I was just trying to say I understand how it feels to still want the person who caused the pain."

"And maybe it's confusing, how this feels. With missing Angel. And now having Spike around. All we're wondering is if you really are seeing Spike for Spike. Not a vampire substitute."

Buffy felt rage well up in her. "How dare you-" It extinguished. Xander looked tight and tense. Willow looked beaten and heartbroken. "I don't want to do this now."

"I'm wondering, too," Willow wiped her eyes with her sleeve. "Buffy, I really am grateful, in a strange and unsettling way, to Spike. He saved my life. He saved _your_ life. But with all he's done, how can you _want _him in your life, even as a friend?"

Before Buffy could explain, Xander spoke up, lifting his hands in surrender, eyes closed as he waited for the onslaught of righteous indignation that would surely meet his words, "Friends, right. For now. But he'll want it to be something more. He can't leave you alone, Buffy."

Buffy hesitated. _Lying wastes time. Lying hurts us more later. Don't I know it…_ "Maybe I don't want him to leave me alone."

Xander stared. "Of all the answers I was expecting, that was not on the list. Not even remotely."

Willow was relieved for a break in the constant loop in her head, the bitter, heartbreaking replay of Oz abandoning her, even if some might say it was for the most noble of causes. "I'm not saying I one hundred percent hate Spike right now. I'm kind of with the grateful. Being alive and not in a wheelchair. Or coma. And he didn't have to help me. But even with that, I'm still remembering everything that happened in junior year, Buffy. He killed people we knew. Not closely, but still. He hurt Angel. He hurt us. I think one of the scariest times in my whole life was when he had Xander and me in the factory basement," Willow did a sudden dry heaving sound, and Xander glared at Buffy. She moved closer to Willow on the bed. "And I've been in some mortally scary situations!"

"I know, Will," Buffy winced. Guilt gnawed. It was a very familiar sensation. She was getting pretty damn tired of it.

"I don't understand how you can want him in your life after that, that's all. Like, as a friend, a close friend. Even if he's changed for real, I-"

"Stop." Buffy held up her hand, jaw flexing, eyes brimming. "I'm sorry if you don't see it. I can't explain it better." She took Willow's hand, then Xander's. "Maybe you shouldn't have to explain why you're friends with people. I mean...I've been bad. Xander, not to bring up icky memories, but there have been times when-"

"Those things can't outweigh the amount of awesome that is Buffy. Or the Scoobies!" Willow yelped.

"We're human. We make mistakes, and some stuff, such as being possessed by a hyena spirit demon, are not our faults."

"Getting bitten wasn't his fault. I'm not saying that I'm pro-vamp. They choose to kill. But they don't have to choose to change, and Spike did."

"I wasn't-"

"Wait," Buffy swallowed painfully. "Do you remember when it snowed last Christmas?"

"Uhhh, yes?" Xander asked in a bewildered voice.

"The First Evil was plaguing Angel, you know that. It connected us, our dreams, so that he'd want to hurt me, so that I'd be happy if he died, after seeing the worst things he'd done. I could see what he'd done in the past. He was… a truly terrible demon. We know that. It's no secret."

"Spike's not on the same level as Angelus, I get that. To be fair, I think very few evils in the world could live up to that sick, twisted -"

"Not the point!" Buffy growled and flashed Willow a smile when she not-so-discreetly kicked Xander's shin with the "shut up!" face. "As bad as he was in the past… as bad as he was to me… You _know_ what he did to me. But you can't _understand_ how horrible he made me feel. You can't, because so far you haven't had to kill someone you loved and trusted with all of yourself." She shuddered. "Even then, I couldn't wish him dead. He wanted me to, I wanted to. Couldn't manage it."

"He was a good guy. When he wasn't evil," Willow consoled.

"Spike's not a 'good guy'. I guess if vampires are evil, then he'll always be evil. But, Spike never broke my heart. Never inflicted anywhere near the level of pain Angel inflicted for the mere pleasure of seeing just how much he could make it hurt, for hurting hearts and breaking them. Spike always had a purpose, you know that? Okay, to be a jerky, braggy idiot with a reputation for killing slayers is one thing, but the rest. He did what he did to heal Drusilla, to get her back, to trade for her life, to save her life…A lot of the stuff that was the worst, he did for the best reason. He loved someone. Even if it's a really messed up kind of love." Buffy hesitated. _I don't think it was that messed up. It was their normal. It was faithful, on his part. It was made with two scary, messed up people. But it was still love._ "I don't think I'll ever stop loving Angel," Buffy whispered slowly.

Xander looked panicked. "You don't have to love Spike instead!"

Buffy smiled slightly and nodded. "I know that. I don't love him. But… I like him, Xander. I actually have grown to. You can hate him if you want. You hated Angel when I loved him. If you hate Spike when I like him…" Her smile shrank. "I'll still be your friend. If you won't be mine-"

"Buff, that's crazy talk!"

"You probably think I'm crazy."

"Yeah, but in a Hellmouth-y-savior sort of way. You really- I mean, he doesn't even have a soul."

"Nope. Humans do. Humans can be jerks. Demons can try to be good. Anya has a soul, Xander. Is she plagued with guilt for all the stuff she did?

Willow spoke up with a scoffing sound, "No! She would wear a t-shirt that said One Million Served at McVengeance's.' Y'know, if it wouldn't attract the bad kind of attention.'

"Werewolves have demons in them. They're only brought out by the moon. I know Oz is being stupid right now, but we don't hate him. Completely," Buffy offered

"This is different. Spike actively killed people, like two weeks ago.

"About three and a half," Buffy sheepishly corrected, wincing again. "That's a big deal- but there's another big deal, too, whatever happens next. The only reason he wanted to stop was because he wanted to change. Do you know what that means?" Buffy paused. "Angel told me he was weak. He had no control over his demon, no restraint, only drawing out the pain. Spike _chose to stop_. He didn't have a threat. He didn't have a soul. He didn't have someone good loving him and begging him to try to change or come back to who he used to be. He wasn't getting anything out of me, Xander. He wanted to stop. To be a different person. Anya lost her power. Angel got cursed with a soul."

"I trust those things more! They're harder to flip on and off. Spike changed 'cause he wanted to. What's going to happen when he doesn't want to?

Buffy couldn't tell him that they'd promised. It was a private, intimate promise. That they wouldn't "flip" because no one got hurt again. "Then I get hurt again, Xander. I guess I'll always get hurt when friends and lovers betray me-

He looked panicked, "Wait, there's lovering now?"

"No, I'm grouping stuff together," Buffy answered honestly. "Angel, Parker, Faith, Cordelia, Mom, Giles- even you guys sometimes. When we change and shut each other out, betray the promises we made, duh, it hurts! God, Xander, what do you want me to do? Dislike him for being good? Tell him 'No, you can't even try to be something better than you are, you're doomed to be evil and murder-y, sorry?'"

Willow put on a mopey version of her resolve face. "That would be hypocritical, Xander. For all of us. We've all tried to change and be better than we were."

Xander looking hard at her, collecting himself. "I don't have to like this."

"No." Buffy let out a resigned sigh.

"But… I like the points you made. Okay? I like what you said. No way in _hell_ do I want murdering, kidnapping, factory-basement Spike to ever return. I'm just scared of him changing to something evil- uh- not even changing, just going back to how he was- after you get to feeling safe around him. Like you did with Angel. If that makes me a coward, then a coward be I."

"And if Anya got another power center stone thingy?"

Silence.

"You know, he didn't switch sides for over a hundred something long years," Willow said musingly.

"Yeah, he'll hit a bicentennial any minute now." Buffy shrugged. "Been there, done that, over the freaking."

Willow shook her head as she reclined once again, thoughts of another person, a person she'd come to think as solid, stoic, and unchanging, clouding her mind. "No, no, this is a good thing! He doesn't seem um- fickle. It took him a long time to want to change and now maybe he'll stay that way for another couple centuries. Especially if he has someone he -well, he loved Drusilla and he doesn't love Buffy, but he likes Buffy and Buffy likes him - but not exactly like-"

"Willow, stop. We get it. If Spike and I are friends, that's a good motivation for him to stay the way he is now. But guys- he changed _before _I was his friend. He changed, and then I could see- what a good friend he might turn out to be. You don't have to believe me. But I don't turn my back on friends." She and Xander locked eyes. "See what I did there?"

"I see what you did there. He's not going to like- hang out all the time, is he?"

"Nope. Sometimes. He's- weirdly enough, pretty good at respecting the normal girl side who likes muffins and ballet."

"You talked about ballet? There's ballet? Ballet in connection with Spike just- my mind is past blown."

"Can we get back to chocolate? I've been accelerated into emotional eating by intense contemplation of love, friendship, and changes thereof. I want cookies." Willow whimpered.

"Cookies you shall have. I'll be speedy slayer, back with cookies and then into psych class. You want me to explain to Professor Walsh that you're sick?"

"Cough, cough," Willow said pointedly.

"One flu-ridden roomie in need of cookies. Got it."

* * *

Xander and Buffy walked down the stairs. "I can't believe he left. I can believe he went to find a cure, but- but that's what Scoobies do! We find cures. We do research and slaying."

"I can't believe it, either. Not after he got back together with her during senior year. Like, if you can forgive one huge mistake and realize what you've got, wouldn't you hold onto it?" Xander threw out his arms in frustration.

Buffy knew he meant Oz. Yet it was funny how different situations, different words kept stubbornly horning in and trying to apply themselves to her current friendship with Spike. _Forgive one huge mistake… realize what you've got… hold onto it._ "Yeah," Buffy shook her head wonderingly. Then she snapped back to the "It must be something he just can't let us help with. I guess it's pretty personal. The demon is _in him_. And if other werewolves are out there- well, I mean, we know they aren't all the self-restraint guys like Oz. If he feels like they could be trying to get at him, if they could somehow corrupt him when he's not in full control… We can't help with that."

"I guess."

She turned to him as they exited the dorm, pausing at the sidewalk. "But that doesn't mean you have to end it. You don't have to break hearts to heal yourself."

"That old 'cruel to be kind' thing- not so much." Xander suddenly gripped her elbow. "If I were dating Drusilla, you'd be worried, right?"

Buffy's eyes threatened to pop. "She's completely not a one-man woman. And she's insane. Violently insane!"

He gave a strained laugh. "See, with me, the first reason I wanted to yell out was 'She's a vampire!' But you… species isn't the primary consideration."

"You make me sound like I want to date cats or something," Buffy complained.

"I worry about you. And at the same time, I admire you. The heck out of you. You really do see people for _who_ they are, not what they are. You liked me, of the dweeby loser species. And Willow of the nerdy bookworm species."

"Come on. People are just people, I-"

"Tell that to the jungle that is high school. You were an A-Lister."

"Past-tense. Slaying tends to move you into the freaky loner territory. Also, you were not a loser. Not dweeby. Just… not smooth. And I also am not. So much with the smoothness. I am wigged that I like to hang out with Spike, okay? I am! But I'm not really good at lying to myself. I tried it a LOT."

"Buffy! Chill! Ranting in broad daylight. Not good for the smooth," Xander pressed his hands gently to her shoulders.

"He's… worth giving a chance. If you see him sliding and you see me letting it go, like I did when Angel turned- you tell me. You _make_ me listen."

He blinked. "But um- we tried that. Last time. With Angel? Fighting happened? Prolonged glaring, icy silences?"

"If I can give Spike a second chance, I can give you a lot more. I can also hope you'll give me one. This time, I'm not lying to my friends. I'm not blind. Maybe my vision doesn't match most people's, but I'm not refusing-to-see gal. But you- you can't tell me not to try. You just have to tell me if you see me messing up. And- to be clear, giving Spike who saved my life and saved Willow's life a chance to be friends doesn't count as a mess up."

They locked eyes. "I promise I'll tell you if I see anything you're missing."

"And not hate me?"

"I promise that times infinity."

She found herself hugging him hard, hearing him gasp and feeling him flail into hugging him back. "Willow needs me to be focused on helping her. I've been in the sudden heartbreak sitch. I'll go do cookies and excuse making. Have a great day at work, don't drop any power tools, okay?"

"Same! Slay those books. Save me cookies."

"That's up to the phenomenon that is break up eating."

She turned right, he walked straight. And then he walked back. "What?"

"I see something," Xander let out a huge sigh and spoke grudgingly. "He doesn't make you act like Angel did. Like it was all life and death, 'my big love is fated and cursed and I hurt all the time.' I like that. I know you guys aren't in the same category. You're not, right?"

"Right," Buffy nodded.

"You hurt last year. And I couldn't fix it. You were -not to make you hate my guts- but you were obsessed with him sometimes, and I couldn't help that, even though I knew it was going to hurt more. With Spike, you seem… this is very weird to say, but healthier. I kinda wanna vomit."

"That's so funny. Not the vomiting part. Spike and I said the same thing, that we think we're not better, 'cause wow are we non-mixy things, but we are way healthier than him and Dru or me and Angel. It's mega weird."

"A- to the- men. But- I like when my best friend isn't miserable and shutting us out. Or lying. Or sneaking. There's a list of things I don't like, and I like that you're not doing them."

Buffy's conscience nagged her. She hadn't told him where she spent the night. But she didn't have to give him every detail. Telling him that she'd been hanging out and wanted Spike around would be enough for now. Still… "I don't have to tell you every little detail, do I?"

"I'd prefer that you didn't," Xander requested, looking a little bit sickened.

"You trust me?"

"With my life. And my best friends' lives- which in case you haven't been following along means yours and Willow's."

"I trust you, too."

"Don't mess up."

"I won't, if you won't."

* * *

They parted ways again, both feeling oddly relieved and oddly burdened at the same time.

_This is not exactly comfortable. _

_I will never like Spike._ Xander got in his truck.

_He'll never like Spike. _Buffy fished her UC Sunnydale dining card from her wallet.

_But I'll always love Buffy._ He put the keys in the ignition.

_But he'll always love me. _She smiled

Buffy stood in line at the campus cafeteria, her tray loaded with breakfast for one and cookies for three, thinking about the two awesome people she'd just left, and one she'd left a bit before. All three that she'd come back to, all three who would be waiting for her as well. _Spike… I care about him. And he cares about me. I don't have to do the "him or them" thing. _

_This isn't comfortable. But it's a pretty good start._

To be continued...

In Spuffy-related news... The Spuffy novel CrossRealms: Shattered by S.C. Principale is free if you have Kindle Unlimited, or pretty cheap if you don't, lol. Happy beach reading (or maybe room-with-locked-door reading, it's super smutty...)


	8. Part VIII

Friends (Or More)

By Sweetprincipale

Part VIII

_Dedicated to: All the awesome readers who like this little story! Thank you for kind reviews and encouragement. I am slowly getting around to answering all of the unresponded reviews, so just keep 'em coming, the reply will arrive! :)_

"Look at you. On legs and without visible scarring and limping!" Buffy beamed when she Spike opened the door to his crypt.

"Yeah, even Dru's little goodbye kisses are gone," Spike ran his hand over his chest and was about to lift up his black-tee and show her, then stopped suddenly. He coughed awkwardly and put his hand in his pocket.

"I'm glad. Good. Um-" _I should not be thinking lusty wrong thoughts. No shirtlessness. Nope. None_

_Even if last night we were in his bed and the night before we were in my bed and I - Oh God._ "Hungry?"

"Strangely content feeling, but I could eat. Are you 'bout to pass out?"

"Not yet. Willow is in a holding pattern. She called Oz's parents. They heard he was 'on tour.' She went to track down Devon. I asked to go with her, but she said no. I think she's pinning some hopes on that Devon will know where Oz is and she can go talk to him. Convince him to stay. But I know Oz," Buffy sighed. "Not like Willow does, but I've seen him make up his mind. He's quiet and then- boom. Life-altering. When the mayor was going to ascend, we had this sacred urn thing-y to stop a ritual, and Faith had Willow, and we were going to trade, but Wesley- you didn't meet him-"

"Slayer! Slow down and back up a bit. All I'm gettin' here is that Red gets kidnapped too often."

"Which is partially your fault."

"I said sorry! Go on with the story," Spike sighed, deciding it was less likely to get her brassed off at him.

"Short story. Urn saves world by destroying box of bad mojo. Mayor wants box of bad mojo. Mayor will trade Willow for box. Wesley is poophead. Oz destroys urn, no talking, just action. If he wants to go off, he'll go. No talking. Just action."

"Unlike me. Equal parts talk an' action," he slid suggestively past her to get his coat, making her breath catch.

"Flirty guy."

"Well… Friends with perks do that."

Buffy's face closed over. "Oh." _That's what we're going to be? Friends who give each other good feelings? In the pelvic way?_

Spike lost the cocky expression instantly, eyes widening when he realized how she'd interpreted his words. "No!"

She looked guilty. "I didn't say anything!" _Maybe that's how this is supposed to work. I didn't think it felt like that when we were talking. When we were dancing. When he was touching me it didn't feel like a get happy and get gone… No, it can't be like that. He wasn't pushing. _

"You thought I meant friends get perks of the physical variety. I meant… it's okay if I flirt a bit with you. Always did, in my nasty little way. Now you know I'm safe for you. My words just mean that I look forward to… whatever we do. I want the 'more' part, Buffy. Not the way that pillock at the coffee shop did."

"Safe for you?" Buffy's eyes were luminous.

"Yeah. You're safe to me, too."

Flirting and insecurity fled, and kissing took its place. Drusilla's little kisses goodbye might have been worth these kisses hello, Spike thought hazily as he found himself kissing her harder, hungrier. _Stop. Stop before she thinks you're pushin' her. Stop before you-_ "Argh!"

"Oooo, owie!"

Grabbing, kneading kisses led to loss of balance and two people collapsing in a chair, him on top of her lap. "I prefer it the other way," he confessed with a wink, hurriedly getting up and offering her a hand. "Dinner and then homework?"

"Dinner and then homework."

"Biology?"

"Chemistry is taken care of," she attempted to flirt back, smoothing her hair. "Oh, and weirdness, my psych class was canceled today."

"After all that bloody work!" Spike glowered.

"Professor Walsh and the TA were gone. There's a rumor that Ohio State offered a really good deal and she's quitting a few weeks into the semester. That's okay. She isn't my favorite person. They'll get an adjunct professor to fill in, I guess."

"So, the notes won't be wasted?"

"Is that all you're worried about?" Buffy demanded playfully.

"Sort of," he huffed. "I haven't done university work in years. Over a bleedin' century!"

"So you want one hundred kisses for every time you crack a book?"

"If you give 'em, you get 'em, Pet."

"Suddenly studying seems way more fun. Willow and Giles did this all wrong." Spike raised his eyebrows slowly at Buffy's words. "Oh. Um. Th-they didn't offer kisses. We don't have that kind of - uh- dinner?" Buffy flustered herself to a halt.

"Did you eat?" Spike hesitated and then added, "You're all right after last night?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy scoffed. "I lose more blood than that on a nightly basis if the baddies get a punch in."

_I used to be that baddie._ Guilt wasn't one of his strong suits. Still, his heart gave a jagged pull. "I owe you a billion kisses, Slayer. One for every swing."

Buffy felt heat in her cheeks trickle down her chest and her insides. She joked quietly, "Oh come on! Nowhere near a billion. You weren't able to land that many punches! I'd take… a hundred?"

"So I'm up to two hundred now," Spike muttered appraisingly as they walked out of his crypt. "You want that all in one go, or spread out over a couple nights?"

"Hmm. Does it compound? Like interest?"

"I'd call you quite the shark, Slayer… but I'm benefiting from that. Let's say they compound. Y'know, unless you let me work it off, put in some serious hours each night, I'm never gonna be caught up."

Buffy bit her lip, falling into stride with him in the dark graveyard. "Is… is that a bad thing?"

_Never being done with her. Her never being done with me. I wanted somethin' never-ending. I thought it would be the quest to hunt 'em down. Not to be… No, don't leap there. Just enjoy it, one step at a time, hard as that is to do when you want it all. _"No, that's a bloody wonderful thing," he answered hoarsely.

"Me, too. I mean, I think so too." Buffy let out some air she'd been holding and found herself staggering slightly.

"You all right in other ways after last night?" he asked, tone nonchalant.

Buffy flashed back to the first moment she had truly considered letting him drink, not last night, the night in the alley when his eyes were sunken and he could barely stand, attack piled on attack without the needed feeding to restore him.

"_You wanted a willing donor."_

"_You didn't want to be one. Slayer. Buffy! Stop, you're startin' to shake. What's-"_

"_I don't know!" _

"_If you're not sure, then it's not on. Calm down, all right? We're never gonna hurt each other. We don't need to do this. We don't need to do anything anymore, not unless both of us like the idea."_

"Because it was wrong?" Buffy said, talking out loud, but more to herself than to him.

Spike felt stung, even though he thought he had no right to be. It was wrong, in so many ways, 'specially to her, with all her complicated "history." Just didn't feel wrong to him. Taking without pain or violence or death was just part of sharing and loving and living. He knew he was an effed up demon more than ever as he merely shrugged and clamored off the rising irritation. "Yeah, s'pose."

"But it didn't seem wrong. I… you said a kiss with teeth. And it was. And I… felt really good. I feel fine today."

"Well… I can make you feel good without that. But if you ever - sod it. Slayer, I need a smoke." Spike unceremoniously released her hand and rummaged in his coat.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't ever want you to think I want you for your blood. I don't think that'd do us any good. I loved it, I'm not gonna lie. I'd do it again, any time you wanted. Just don't think you _have_ to want it."

Buffy walked in silence, a few shoulder-lengths apart as he lit up and exhaled, his tight chest visibly expanding, neck loosening. "You really do care about the girl. You're all about the girl. You said I was all about the guy, but you're about what she wants."

"Am not! Okay, a bit!" Spike hotly denied and in the next second relented. "I loved Dru. She was my everything. You're not her. You're… better in a lot of ways. It feels wrong to say that, to think it. But I do. I have, ever since the night she dragged you in, all trussed up and showed you off, a little prezzie to make up for whoever she'd shagged on her way back to apologize for leavin' me again. A slap in the face, y'know."

Buffy shuddered. "I bet."

"How she thought killin' the most loyal girl in the world, the best of the best, would make up for months of faithlessness… It didn't make up for it. It made it worse. You didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve that. I don't … deserve you."

Buffy watched him toss away the cigarette, her feet slowing until they stopped. "Friends don't have to deserve each other. But, if we were talking about the awesomeness of certain people… when you're on my side, you're pretty awesome to have. Anyone would want the kind of guy you are. Again, I have to stress this- when you're not evil and killing people. That's a deal-breaker."

Spike turned back to face her, watching her carefully go inside herself as she concluded. She leaned on the iron gates at the end of the cemetery. "Oi. That's not gonna happen. You just said so."

"Huh? Sorry. I went to a sad place." Buffy gave him a melancholy smile. All the promises she and Angel made. So much love, so much good, all about the truly pure things- and all broken.

"You said I'm a good friend to have. You said I'm all about the girl. I don't want to pull the murderous rampage bit, Slayer. But- even if I did. I wouldn't want to anymore. My girl doesn't like it. I can't hurt my girl. I can't hurt my friend."

_Wow. I guess, in a strange way, that's right. The one thing I don't want to happen can't happen 'cause I don't want it to happen. Kind of like being Prophecy Girl, in a good way for once in my life. Brain. Tangly. _"Okay. Good. That's good." They slowly resumed walking, closing ranks once again. "You can't hurt your girl. Friend."

They both froze, eyes wide, startled. "I'm sorry. I was saying that you can't- "

"Why?" Spike's look of shock was replaced by one of simmering joy. "I heard a period in there, Buffy. It was nice and loud. Full stop."

Walking along again, Buffy felt the breath returning to her constricted lungs. _No big deal. For Mr. Show Off-y Guy, he knows when to let stuff go. Or play it cool. I guess that's how you live a long time as a vamp. _ "Can I ask you a dumb question?"

"Do you ask me any other kind?" Spike jibed, and received a lightly thrown elbow for it. "Go on, then."

"What'd you call Drusilla?"

"Like pet names? Oh, a dozen things. My sweet. Dru. Poodle. Baby. Kitten. My wicked ripe plum had a nice bit of poetry to it."

"Stellar imagery," Buffy was forced to admit. _Except poodle. That's weird. Why can't nice girls get a guy who calls them such delicious nicknames? Oh. Wait. I'm sort of in the running for that, I guess._ "I didn't mean sweet nicknames. I meant, what do you call someone you're with for you unlife? Was she your girlfriend? That doesn't seem big enough."

"Vamps don't take marriage vows, Luv. Not with other vamps. You could do a claim. It's the same thing, no rings, just bites, nice little words. A private ceremony though, if you know what I mean."

"So you weren't married, you were claimed?"

"No, then we'd never be apart. Dru can't be claimed. I knew that and I loved her anyway. Have to be willing to renounce loyalty to all others. Including your sire. She couldn't do that. I was never… I was never truly first in the peckin' order inside her head."

"Oh." Angelus. Her "dear daddy" in the sickest way possible. One that _really_ didn't deserve loyalty, but she'd give it to him and ignore the one who did deserve it. _Wanna punch something._

Spike continued, "You know, it's funny. I always just spoke of us together, what we were. When I came to this town, I told the Anointed Brat, 'Dru and I are movin' in.' Simple like that. But she called me her knight. Her prince. I wasn't her king though. And a knight defends, but the queen commands."

Steps quickened, as if they could outrun the serious vein their conversation had taken.

"I called Angel my lover. He called me his girl. We said boyfriend and girlfriend a couple of times, but that was for me. He always looked semi-embarrassed by it. He didn't get teenager normal girl stuff. Like prom. Homecoming. The desire to shop for something not black."

Spike burst out laughing and tried to contain it. Failing miserably, he just shook his head and grinned at her. "Priceless. Oh, I love it. If I ever see him again I- will not mention that. No. Friends don't betray the confidences, Luv," he quickly amended.

"Smart vamp."

"Turn there," Spike instructed. "Shortcut to Willy's through Old Sunnydale Cemetery. Counts as patrol, yeah?"

"Ooh, efficiency with the slaying. Giles will be proud. Does Willy's serve human food?"

"No, I think even he draws the line at- oh, you mean like wings and pizza? He does. I'll eat it. Not so sure if you should. I can't die of the same things. Oh, what now?" Spike demanded as her face went from the verge of laughter to downcast again. "Slayer, if I keep makin' you sad, I'm not much of a - much of a pal."

"I'm all with the serious. It comes and goes. I can't shut it off."

"That's fine by me- but _I _don't wanna make you sad. If you want the pizza, we'll get the flippin' pizza. Slayer healing oughta kill a little dysentery-causing parasite, right?"

"You won't die like I will. That was a big relationship-killer for Angel."

"Yeah? I'm not him."

"I'm glad about that. Are you going to throw it in my face at some point? 'Cause if you are, let's do it now. He waited until- yeah. After it was too late. I was in love. We did the thing. The first time, first love, life, death, resurrection thing."

"Buffy, you an' I tried to off each other. Right now, that makes me sick. But it also makes me realize a couple things. Anyone can die. Young, old, even immortal. He died before you. If you hadn't plunged the sword in, I would have, if I hadn't been savin' Dru."

"Point?"

"The immortal bastard bit it before his teen sweetheart. An' you- didn't you die an' make that Faith chick?"

"Technically, that was Kendra, and then she- yeah. I did."

"An you both pop back up. I don't think death stops love. If it did- I don't think it'd stop _you_. Time ain't promised, so be happy with what you've got."

Be happy with what you got. A Parker-special, live for the moment, no regrets. Buffy cocked her head, looking at the man beside her. He wasn't in seduction mode. He was serious, faintly irritated, too. _He means it. _Her smile returned, a little bit crooked, but all for him. She slid her arm through his and they walked into Willy's together, something neither of them had intended to do. "I got you. I'm happy about that."

* * *

"Thanks for the pretzels. They were still in a sealed bag. They couldn't be contaminated. Could they?"

"Shouldn't you have asked me that _before _you ate 'em?" Spike tossed his last empty plastic bag in the dumpster as they left the seedy establishment. "I could take you out to a proper place that serves edible food."

"I'm good for now. But… we could go someplace sometime. If you want."

Spike licked his lips. "Sure." _Do we date now? Coffee, patrollin' and severe injuries aside, that is. I don't like this. But I like her. I don't mind goin' places with her. I'd love to spoil her, make her smile, kiss her, take her home, to bed and we- get hurt and confused and it all goes to hell. This is a bloody fine wire to walk. _

They returned to his crypt. Electric lights were few upstairs, but they were present, and aided by candles. She cracked open a textbook and pulled out a highlighter. "I think I vaguely remember some of this stuff from high school. Of course, the only biology teacher I ever cared about got beheaded by a giant praying mantis lady, so then I was less interested in taking notes."

"Mmhmm," Spike replied absently.

Buffy watched him move around the room. Ill at ease in his own home. Ill at ease with her. She was supposed to make him feel comfortable. "She cut off his head." Buffy tried to see if he was listening.

"That'll work."

"She seduced virgin students."

"Bad piece of work."

"Spike!"

Like he was waking up, Spike turned to her with a startled expression. "Sorry, Luv, what about your old teacher?"

"You're freaked! It's because we hinted about dates. Like, normal people dates. We don't have to!"

"I want to!" Spike burst out. He sat down in his chair and propped his head in his hands, knees on elbows as he slumped forward, picture of moody concentration. " Bein' bad is much easier than you'd think, y'know? Bloody lot less work. I don't know how to do this, Buffy. I just know I'd like to."

Textbook forgotten, she slid to her knees and looked up at him, making him straighten up. "I don't either."

His hand came to rest in her hair. Her hands found his knees. "We laugh. We joke, We have moments of sharing. It's deep stuff. It's good stuff. I know you said I can't lose it. But if I make mistakes I'm gonna, an' you can laugh if you want, but I don't wanna lose the first friend I've had in ages, and the one thing I'm good at- aside from killing-"

"Not a good thing," Buffy interjected quietly.

"- is being in a lovin' sort of relationship. My head's spun. When I saved you… I could never imagine you seeing anything good in me that'd make you come along with me into this strange version of a 'brave new world' we've got goin' on." he stroked her hair once, gently, but his face as a study in bottled up emotions, with confusion and frustration making frequent appearances.

She tentatively reached up and mirrored the gentle gesture, over his hair, then to his face, smoothing the pain out of it. An inner voice challenged her actions. _Don't smooth. Don't comfort. He deserves pain and confusion and misery. He doesn't deserve someone like you. You're- _"I was thinking that when you did bad things, you had good reasons. And we're different. But I - I kind of respect the reason behind the things, not the things themselves. You loved Drusilla. You did everything and anything for her. Without a soul, you're right, it's easier to be bad. If you fight off all those instincts to do bad things - I'm actually impressed. Wigged, yet impressed."

"Is that right?" his head turned, caught her fingertips with his lips.

"That's right." Her spine went to gelatin when his lips latched on, tongue trailed over the pad of her fingertips. _That mouth is a lethal weapon in all kinds of ways…"_

"You'll stick with me if I mess up?"

"On us? Mmhmm. On the innocent populace? Not so much."

"I don't want them. Food is food. Love-"

Her hand jerked away like he'd bitten her. It's okay. _It was a slip of the tongue. What a tongue. Can't talk about that slip. Fix it somehow._ Buffy rose from her knees and he did as well, him looking panicked, her looking breathless. She launched into him and sealed his lips with her own, hard and fast. She pulled back. "That's right. Food is just food. The other stuff matters. That's why I can trust you. And you wanted to earn those compounding rates of kisses, right?" her tone was light, letting him know nothing was taken the wrong way, that they were in a good, if odd, place. "Biology study now?"

"Absolutely." _She trusts me. She didn't get mad._ He settled back in the chair and pulled her into his lap as soon as she got the textbook and her pen.

"I'll read, you take notes?"

"Okay, nice." Buffy nodded. "Awesome actually." _This is what I wanted. _

_What?_

_A normal boyfriend. You cuddle on his lap and you study, he helps you. You make out. You snack. You dance._

_How the hell is Spike my definition of normal?_

His words from the previous night came back to her. _Normal is whatever the hell you make it_. She propped the book on one side of him and pulled her knees up to her chest, writing down important stuff.

She leaned down and kissed his hair.

He leaned in and heard her heartbeat.

"This is good, Baby?" he asked, looking up at her with something of his old smug confidence?

"This is good." She kissed his lips and sighed. "Very, very good."

To be continued...

End Note: In Spuffy-related news... The "Spuffy" novel CrossRealms: Shattered by S.C. Principale is free if you have Kindle Unlimited, or pretty cheap if you don't, lol. Happy beach reading (or maybe room-with-locked-door reading, it's super smutty...)


End file.
